he's the kind of big who's unaware of how strong he is:
bone crushing intensity and then we're limp bodies on hotel bed sheets
night lasts for an eternal instant when
the entire universe condenses into your grip on the small of my back
let us depend on the pulse:
press push pull pant and pry
mouths from necks from ears
and lock in the look that says less than each of us wants to believe
silent fantasies that scream for freedom in another world, somewhere.
from the swollen membranes of brains
and from fingers that freely feign understanding
something isn't right if i can only write at the artificial tap
fresh form flows from fingers that firmly push a pen
but the trusty lefty smudge will always slant my words
closer toward that dream i had to tell the world about
No comments:
Post a Comment