the ears love the spring
while the tongue craves the summer.
i want you to know
that my mouth
is missing,
my hands
are subject
to earthquakes
& that my blood
is sick and confused
without you.
the heart
has a mind
of it's own,
relaxed in shades of autumn,
bathed in the milk
of the distant dreaming moon.
with two hearts
i gather cutouts
of thunder-fold
into myself
to give you.
the hours
deplete me
of irony
& ivory.
my skin barely moves,
gathering
a thatching of barnacles,
sea moss
& a thousand varieties
of pelagic entrapment
to keep me here.
& this island
is subject
to seasonal haunting.
like the wayward sparrow
whose blood
contains the metal
that sends her south,
i feel this cool wind tugging
& the air popping
all electrical through my secret flesh.
i wish to part my lips
& speak a flame into the world,
to bleed love
through the walls,
& the grass
& the trees that forgave me.
until then,
though i may turn laughter
into the science of healing,
know that your body
reminds me of everything
in my life.. |
Submission Name: a thatching of barnacles
