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nh

        Pulsating rhythms of romantic words, I left my heart on a keyboard, hammered into a note I left for you. It flipped the hour glass on it’s head and for a moment even the sands couldn’t move. Refractive thoughts pulsate like colors from a strobe light, and cause refrains in my breathing. I hear your voice, and for a brief moment our lungs intertwine, I change my position and end our conversation.

            Contortion is a talent I recently learned, developed in my stomach, it’s tied in knots. Choking breathes dissipate as air vanishes from my lungs, and swells as fluttering changes on the inside. Stretched across the crossroads of forever and never, I stare straight up. This is the only path for me, straight forward. You choose the way we turn, my heart in your hands detached from a keyboard, now on a music note resonating with the beating of our hearts. I can’t type more, my fingers are numb with anticipation, tracing lines in this path so many have worn.