Your kite
is a rainbow.
You
let it kiss the sun -
the glow is unfamiliar,
unlike your face,
even though we have only been
in the den
for five days.
If I could cry, I would.
Our backyard is teeming
with cardinals and spring,
but I can’t think of them.
I only see you.
Your chest
is an Indian beat
belonging to a drummer. I think it's for me.
I count it out. One, two, one, two.
The borders beyond the garden are looming;
they creep and crawl forward
like the disease we fight, pressing in.
Your warmth sinks in me, but I am still cold.
I constantly check foreheads,
pressing lips against suspicious skin,
and for a day or two I forget
that the world goes round
and that we are small, petals of daffodils.
You hold my hand, you rouse me as a child from slumber:
“Open your tongue. Look up.” And I look,
and I see those colors you’re flying;
I see a diamond and a sign
and God’s eye. Goodness now notices
my cough and bleed. My eyes are no longer mute;
my song comes from the windows,
it tumbles down the brick and vines
to meet the waterfall on my cheeks.
Rainbows can be tasted;
they can be felt on the lips much better
than fevers.
.
I fall to the grass and breathe
as a newborn: for the first time.
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 2:05 AM UTC
Your kite
is a rainbow.
You
let it kiss the sun -
the glow is unfamiliar,
unlike your face,
even though we have only been
in the den
for five days.
If I could cry, I would.
Our backyard is teeming
with cardinals and spring,
but I can’t think of them.
I only see you.
Your chest
is an Indian beat
belonging to a drummer. I think it's for me.
I count it out. One, two, one, two.
The borders beyond the garden are looming;
they creep and crawl forward
like the disease we fight, pressing in.
Your warmth sinks in me, but I am still cold.
I constantly check foreheads,
pressing lips against suspicious skin,
and for a day or two I forget
that the world goes round
and that we are small, petals of daffodils.
You hold my hand, you rouse me as a child from slumber:
“Open your tongue. Look up.” And I look,
and I see those colors you’re flying;
I see a diamond and a sign
and God’s eye. Goodness now notices
my cough and bleed. My eyes are no longer mute;
my song comes from the windows,
it tumbles down the brick and vines
to meet the waterfall on my cheeks.
Rainbows can be tasted;
they can be felt on the lips much better
than fevers.
.
I fall to the grass and breathe
as a newborn: for the first time.
hi there hello poetry. my names lion how are you :)
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