Madly
in my silence
The rush of knowing before the spoken thought
the act of placing the moment in between my words
changes it
its not the same, because time is fluid, memories are mercuric
seconds are of infinite depth
but the words just can't sing that
the meaning behind the world
the loneliness
a wolfs howl that strains against my lungs in the supermarket
the tear the sits behind my eyes on the train
the caged something inside me that drives me to find some way to set it free
it wants to dance
on the currents in the wind in the trees that roar when they shake but the sound is small
when its up against the stars
There are no vibrations on the air, in the light, in the nothing
that can set my something free
yet still it screams inside of me
it laughs with unadultured elation
and cries with horrible soul shattering convulsions
it moans with passion at the touch of fingertips on my back, at the turn of lips not mine
it wonders at tiny crystal snowflakes, and streetlights, and insects trapped in amber
and defiantly drags my hand
once more
across this page