in the dead or night you're the most alive
(like a thick gasp in my throat
which lingers beyond my breaths)
(yet not in my mind
where the other thoughts fight)
you've lasted longer than my hair and my nails,
nearly as long as the cells in my bones.
how do you live past your presence?
(and how can i bottle you up,
keep you in a jar on the top of my shelf
where i can pull you down on a rainy day?)
how do you speak when your tongue is at rest?
how do your stir me when you are asleep?
how do my dreams know to bring me to you
so we can speak in the same air?
how do you live in me?
(how are you here right now?)