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I keep telling myself
it is a good thing...
this wall
we're skyscraping
between us
out of the sand
filling our lungs.
it has always been said
love is but a
collapsing chest cavity
of open mouthed caverns
and a maze of caves
we can hide our echoes in.
i think my screams
are tired.
tired of richocheting on rock,
so I grab
the granite and pull ‐‐
as if there is any give
here ‐‐
but we've built
something solid
out of this silt,
fortified the sand
with tears
we snotted back and
swallowed.
sometimes,
when I am caught
in the hurricane
swirling
in your iris,
I think of breaking the levies
in your sternum
just to watch the
tsunami
flood your bottom lip.
then, I can blame
your nature
for
destroying our comfort zone
and walk away
before ever you
recognize
the coward in
me.
the one that roars
in blind spots
with tail tucked
and claws blunted,
dentured teeth lioness
too afraid to eat
meat.
No, no,
it is a good thing
this wall
we are skyscraping
between us.
silence and bricks
are the only way
to insure we
coexist.
i think my screams
ReplyDeleteare tired. with tears
we snotted back and
swallowed.
The power in these lines is so ridiculously intense. So human in its rawness, such is grief and emotion. Then such truth bouncing around in the caverns of this image:
love is but a
collapsing chest cavity
of open mouthed caverns
and a maze of caves
we can hide our echoes in
What an interesting subversion - a cave of echoes being love, yet what is echoed and when did it begin. So many forms of love when so strained and pulled seems to teeter on those very first echoes, still faintly vibrating, those initial emotions twanging away beneath the louder echoes pushing away... always a feast of thought in your writes