Sometimes these worries paint themselves
in vibrant colors, right behind
Sometimes they manifest in
the folding-up of old skins, skins that don't quite
fit the mood anymore.
I want to break open those colors and pour
their meanings into the holes chewed open by
late nights and red eyed mornings.
I want to tuck myself into your side like
a barrier against the stones this world
might cast at us, I want to run away with you planted like seeds
under my tongue,
warm and wet enough to grow
a life out of, enough to draw
roots into this soil and to grow
home into these walls.
I don't care if the mice chew holes all the way through, I only care about the way your eyes
dance over the secrets we've built up together in the warm-stickiness of
enmeshed bodies and dreams.
Put my anxieties to sleep, we've had enough
of those to last us a lifetime.
Draw the lifeblood through these walls and tell me
dreams do have a place here and that
all these things we wrap our skin around
can make a home in us