I am always caught
on the ragged
edges of your breath. There are too many
words in the syncopation
of your sighs
and I never know
which ones you mean. I know
that I need them. A sequence
of notes is not always
a song, but I still listen
for a melody. And still, I expect
more than I find
in your slanted
glance. Your eyes are dissonance
trapped behind glass. Once, the secrets
hiding between your lashes
peeked out. Their echoes
are still tonguing the air.
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 11:31 AM UTC
I am always caught
on the ragged
edges of your breath. There are too many
words in the syncopation
of your sighs
and I never know
which ones you mean. I know
that I need them. A sequence
of notes is not always
a song, but I still listen
for a melody. And still, I expect
more than I find
in your slanted
glance. Your eyes are dissonance
trapped behind glass. Once, the secrets
hiding between your lashes
peeked out. Their echoes
are still tonguing the air.
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