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{thespianna to her brute} coleen shin To hell with symmetry, I love your shade the branch of your left arm, your knobby twigs caught in my hair with the sparrows that nest there. Measure me curled and fetal, from head to hip the size of me, the containment of my dreams the child that fends off strangers, mimes in sleep all past criminal activities, all bumps into cabinets. The fat of your paunch is my pillow now the rumble of your last meal, muted thunder how close I am to being swallowed whole by the relentless love of your humane heart your unspoken secret language boiling over. Will it ever be enough for a scribe like myself who must write it down to find it out? |
