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In my sleep
I am using the blade
Of your jaw
To dig
In the soft hills of my
Mind,
Tearing up clods
Of thought,
Striken with fleshy roots,
And pulling streaked, heavy
Memories from the
Soft pink ground.
I am making a hole,
Round, huge
And level.
Beautiful.
A pool to fill
With the clean blue
Water of You,
So I can jump
And be covered,
Swim,
Touch the bottom
and
Inhale.
©2008-2009 ~Wavelengths86
:iconwavelengths86:

Author's Comments

I don't know if this is good or not. I do know, however, that there will never be words adequate enough to express what is flying around in the space behind my ribs. At least, not when he is concerned.

And that, hopefully, will be for always.

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February 18, 2008
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