it clicks and my
neck cricks and i
am right to an acute.
or obtuse.
i am neck strained,
call me a swan i am
suspended atop a
fence, crooning to
something even more
beautiful than any
moment i've lived.
my mouth is parted and
my fingers are petting the
pages of a text, i could
abandon that softness for
this silver, coiling, curved,
bent and wavey mistress.
i could expand in its afterecho,
and shut my eyes tightly
when she speaks and sings
and screams to me, she's
screaming right now i'm
crying right now, i'm...
crying right now.
her beauty a surprise
in which i couldn't have
predicted a beautiful
kiss onto my brain, i've
golden lace growing on
my brain, her strings her
lungs her bow her harmony
Oh Her Harmony. i couldn't
have predicted something
more beautiful than this
silver and gold, i'm
crying right now.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment