you can tell me things,
any liter you have picked
around every corner
and together we’d unscramble—
the knotted pieces,
even the ones you’d tossed
at the back of your mind

but only if you want to,
only if you feel like
you ought to

you can tell me the uncanny,
the ugly, the messy
all the wonders flying
like bats on the darkness
inside your head

and we’d wander,
but i’ll lace my fingertips on yours
so you won’t ever have
to feel astray

you can tell me
when to come and save you,
in the *******,
unholy hours,
when the cruel waves
insinuate the only space
that makes you sane

we’d lay back on the wet shores
and curse the moon
for the tides
and the bad luck

i’d tell you
my night time stories,
the uncanny,
the ugly
and the messy

you wouldn’t like them,
but there will be
a glimpsing moment
in my eyes
and a flutter
in my chest

there are more things
i’d love to say,
but i know you’d rather
fall asleep

maybe in the daytime
i could tell you
when your eyes are dry
and you are
no longer blue

you can listen to me,
and the words i choked on,
but only if you want to

only if you want to