i’m thinking of a word.
i just learned it yesterday &
it’s beating on my teeth but I can’t
seem to remember.
my fingers trace your mouth like
maybe I’ll suck it from you, find
that word & all the rest,
all the meaning the world dripped
into you in my simple
back and forth movement
on your chapped lips.
it’s not that special of a word.
it’s just—
it describes what this is:
right now as the
fire in the grate breathes
slow steady warmth, opening yellow
on our skin like heat daffodils,
your face in half
shadows, hollowed out
by this slowing of time,
this non-sequitur dream
walk where words
lie slumbering at our
feet as we communicate
through looks, glances, stares
because words never capture
everything but it's nice
to have the right one
damn what is that word.
No comments:
Post a Comment