the
words are falling like rain
(I
can’t tell you how much I want you,
but this poem will try)
in
close proximity to rain on the
leaves
deciduous May
deep
hang, moist cling
silence
sings ghost whistled freight
trains
snake the dark
see
I am afraid to say
that
I want to taste you head to toe
as
the tides know what
joys
step towards abandon here
at
the window sill before Dawn
I
long for salt and blood sugar
am
I just a metaphor for more
for
want in a pure gravity
that
knows no Heaven
I
dream of your skin perhaps
you
on top of my winged desire
with
a match and one hand ready
to
pour the gasoline
it
may seem obscene
so
I lean into this thought
and
linger
you
are close enough
to arrest me and
to
distill me in rhythm
please and be pleased
I
want to slow catch the rain
grow
my tongue against
the
skies in your skin
begin
to lift the air
feel
you birth me
into
each moment
through
each exhale
you’ve
bitten my shoulders as
you’ve
been building sate
fate
doesn’t know my name
but
your eyes do here
your
hands too as
they
reach through my hair
I
dream of that you
that
is here and
I find a jar to firefly
and watch
me try
to say something witty
reaching at a hinted mine
what
I need bleeds these words
falling
like the rain outside my window
wanting,
wanting, wanting more
of
all you have to give
for
me when time stops
and
the stars say in whispers
they’re
already dead
the
wet clay shaped future
is ready to kiln
is ready
to be held
in close sips
lips only have one now at a time
to
beg for a tomorrow
that
may never know
how
I had come into being
being
inside your feasted salvation
when
the tides came in
through the clouds again
EJR
©
A feast for the imagination.
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