In the long silences, your moon-pulled tongue
Crashes against your teeth, salt , water and,
Unsaid words schooling in your rib’s reef
your boneless heart , eight armed
picking locks in a shipwreck
hot sharks in your blood, circling in the white
fall of the wave in your eye, remoras of regret
darting in their open mouths, the ceaseless circle,
the fins gliding below your skin.
Here things drift down, my words like
Wineglasses, like amphorae,
Unopened in the dark
New Hi-Fructose Video with Anthony Hurd
2 days ago
No comments:
Post a Comment