Thunder in a Bottle
Let’s slide between the      
sheets of eternity and
Oblivion orging ourselves on
Pistachio gelato and conversational
Snafu
Tangling ourselves in tangents and
Inhaling
Stardust in cosmic proportions
You were the thunder to my lighting—
Striking from above and below—
While you pure, never touching the ground

I spoke tongues in your presence
Spinning curve ***** of diction for assonance’s sake
I hoped my words were spaceships
Someday I’ll understand you or
just stop trying.