A lean beast
in a recurring dream
feeding on sound
It wasn’t here
Never even passing
close
It touched me in the way
a lover’s words do
when they talk in their sleep
When their tongues don’t
move
Hulled seeds of truths
Sluggish buds
Before the trap of morning-
the questions of daylight-
the tallying of proof
with dusk closing
around each certainty
Scalloped into my thoughts
by soft arched words
a gentle query arranges itself
in the emptiness of my mouth
The pulse behind my eyes
measures quiet in vowels
quickly swallowed
A lean and beautiful beast.
ReplyDeleteYou already know that I loved the vowels in this and
how they are arranged and take form
even in the emptiness.
x
J.
and furthermore
ReplyDelete..mmmMMMmmmmmmm........