I want to know what you do with your hands
when you're not doing anything at all.

And I want to peel back your layers and read between the lines
of your palms.

I want to know what your face looks like as you slip into a dream...

To drift in your sea of thoughts and watch your forgotten memories crash against your shores.

I want to listen to the music of your breath as you rest your wary bones.

I want to know what your voice sounds like as you slowly wake, unfurling like a flower in your bed.

I want to be ringed by the flame of your desires and wander through all of your darkest depths.

I want to taste your chaos like nectar so sweet.

To breathe your air.

And learn the song of your soul.

Does the sage bush dread the winter's cold hands?
Or is she ready for a long, pleasant sleep?
Will the bitter cold wind make her weep
As it peels away her furry skin?
Will she cry when she's
bare-*****
& frail?

Hundreds of words lived inside of me,
Swirling about my brain.
I wanted to spill them at your feet, truly I did.
Adjectives burned my tongue and
Tiny verbs danced about my stomach.
They laughed furiously
Until all that was left were encrypted sonnets,
that dug down deep,
Burrowing inside a place they were sure to be safe.

You wanted to read them,
Instead I swallowed them whole.
I did tell you once.
I told you everything through breathy prayers
But you never heard
Because you were asleep.