Inclined To Say No More

March 23, 2008

Inclined to Say No MoreI got here a birds-eye view
of loneliness. A map
of scars that healed
by themselves, snaking
their way between ridges
and slopes that have gone

too jagged.

I want to move the mountains
that wall away the valley
where you keep your sighs
all the things that make you
ache, hidden
in some make-shift grove
only the child in you can ever
see. Way up here,

where I hover
above your lips, the air is
too thick for words to travel.
My senses, in some semblance
of calm, can only roar
while the ground rises up
to swallow fragile constructs
of sound and comfort and worship
until all that is left is a trembling
of plateaus, leveled by the sleets
of your first rain
my vision foraging wetness,
tongue tunneling soul.

blue rogue