Clear, quiet, like the window before Us
Like My passion for sound
Like Your passion for light
Our passion pooled together and leaked from eyes
These tears, a salt I was familiar with
Sunk, drunk in the middle of the night
We pass our traumas back and forth
We call Each Other opposite, and bow under
the gaze of Others
But there’s something in the way You are
Hard to bind to language, My tongue does jumping jacks
but cannot curl tendril nor tenticle to the syllable
I need to tame Our relationship
But it flutters, and flashes, quarklike
indeed, friction is needed to be sparklike
I have little faith in words but oceans
of faith in You.
The Saint remains
and I open for these
Wild Flowers; Shame, Misery, Rejection, Fear
Sensory, sensible, across infinity: across the Universe with You ~
