(I might have been writing a bit too much at work yesterday.)
take away gold ring,
soft brown sugar, good hearing.
you might find on the other side
the deepest emotion: decked in
cream and copper it wraps your heart
like candlebra hugging warm wax.
papyrus script on cotton underwear
you write your name again
thinking you might lose it
otherwise: there is no
promise when you look
at this world.
are you dying, dead?
hold me as you go
please go knowing i am here.
WHERE DO I GO, KNOWING I AM FREE?
never denounce expired
names of places you have not
been in your lone lifetime
trudging through snow capped
cities trying to speak their tongues
but instead tasting the
soft broken spice of memory
there is a curtain falling before us
to shield and blind the glint of
foreign star-gazing that the sky
cannot hold up so this is how we
decide on the names of things
this is where we build our hands
and feet as the lands we must touch wait
like answers. they withstand the
weight of the unknown like gods
learning to speak: one falling vowel
at a time, the break of dawn
coming in on crutches in the horizon.