Tagged: eyes

it’s the belief that

take me with you, i

take me with you, i
whispered between
this universe and that
one – you are
confused, your
eyes become
flashlights, searching

i am mostly in

i am mostly in
love with your
tell – when i am
hungry, i will
forever know
where to go now,
and when i am
thirsty, i will bend
at the waist
for a dip as deep
as you will allow,
folding me into
those radiant ripples,
all at once so
cool and warm,

in the shower this

in the shower this
morning, i am
slowly turning
the knob towards
C for the final
rinse, so that when
i close my eyes,
i have a direct tap
into the atlantic

every fifth or

every fifth or
sixth morning,
we practice
improvising steps
in the shower, ankles
and knees rounding
out a tango. we
learn to lean into
each other’s
axes, so that we
will never find
ourselves spinning
too far away,
forgetting this
thirst, mouths
wet with so
much laughter

we are collecting

we are collecting
the best of one another
as if it were the

end of summer already –
eyes and pools sparkling

it is known, or

it is known, or
rather felt, that
memories get
shifted around
in the body, from
eyes, to liver,
to heart, to
fingers, to
skin, to feet.
how else can
we explain
the heaviness
from walking
away, walking
off, walking
to make sense
of it all, to
stop the rest
of the body
from feeling