I say,
Tell me about the last person who
Made your voice catch in your throat.
I want to know them through you.
You say,
Tension peaked and you couldn't
Breathe.
I don't care that it wasn't me.
If I could find a hundred people, and
Bring each one home to
****** breath from your lungs,
I would do it every day.
The passion in your words is deep enough
For me to bathe in and
I want to soak for hours.
Tell me more.
When you talk of how your stomach twisted
Into celtic knots,
Your hands shake with recollection.
I am hungry.
You feed me romantic lines about
People I've never met, yet
I see their faces in your eyes.
You absorb everything.
Teach me what it's like to be
A butterfly in your gut
And a tremor in your fingertips.
Absorb me, too.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
I say,
Tell me about the last person who
Made your voice catch in your throat.
I want to know them through you.
You say,
Tension peaked and you couldn't
Breathe.
I don't care that it wasn't me.
If I could find a hundred people, and
Bring each one home to
****** breath from your lungs,
I would do it every day.
The passion in your words is deep enough
For me to bathe in and
I want to soak for hours.
Tell me more.
When you talk of how your stomach twisted
Into celtic knots,
Your hands shake with recollection.
I am hungry.
You feed me romantic lines about
People I've never met, yet
I see their faces in your eyes.
You absorb everything.
Teach me what it's like to be
A butterfly in your gut
And a tremor in your fingertips.
Absorb me, too.
This is part of my poetry challenge.
