a divine return to nothing but words… no title…
directionless
morning enters my lungs.
you. still
tightening abdominally. inhaling. possible…
we speak across oceans.
outer space.
and back.
un-penetrable tendencies on a mutual pallet.
his voice; puppet strings –
……………………………………..to how i sway.
dwelling in belief. he manifests. from darkness,
sunlight in my eyes. something that is
forming shades you will never see,
what you reach for…
……………………………………….and. we. are not.
perpetual rhythm tapped.
hip length locks released. sacrificed
to a loose fall.
tongue curled promise. tight lipped
orchestra of
hush.
forfeiting invitation
wait. suddenly demand
what has always
been speaking clearly
… gracious volume.
turn me
Up.
picture frame fame.
snapshot. stealthy.