I'm afraid when you're singing// you're not breathing

there's something archaic, Biblically striking
when after waking you say "phenomenal" to me
and nothing else for days

you lie there, chest heaving steadily
turbulent lightness giving wisp to desires
abstract you, absent of design
articulate in breath

there's something beautiful
about the sounds you make to no one
(pretend I'm not here, do this now.)
(call me on the phone, do this now.)

my universe erupts when you obey
those sounds you make to no one
I hear them, I hear that you're alive
I hear the husk, the grumble
I know your tongue is swishing unknowns

Like honey melting off a spoon
i perch, gasping hope for you
to do what you don't know

your elemental nature, my secrecy to lose
i reckon with your composition
i conspire and design
within you unmapped tombs

Reviews

[Debbie]

well done...

[Rachel DeHart]

I like how I can hear the conversation or lack there of, in this. Great work.