"The Gravity of it Beautiful"
Silence
the length
of your sleeve. Pause ripens
everywhere. Silence,
as in 'dead silence',
is a lie.
Under your collar
is a 'heart-to-heart', think
conversations
of the skin, the only talk whispered
just there. And then stifled,
choked, the lover's spit razed
to leave you unloved.
I can almost taste. that.
clambering. pause. as it hastens
to shout in palms
you now hide. r,
moist s, (the gravity of it...)
escapes this new design.
Flung loose like an epitaph
alight in trees, speaks '...
© 2007 Zefuyn
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