Blurry

All I know is my eyes are like tiny pockets. I see so little and have been so lost.  I am not from here, but I wish they would let me take up residence. 

ornery face to smile on…

 

The range of words

spanning  fears and freedom buzzing

clutter the space

where dustballs stagger like ancient ruins

eroding beneath the clawfoot

She doesn’t want my eyes

which makes it easier to pour

their peril through tiny

portholes, iris

A rigid kiss I wish would melt

and cover my body like hot wax

I shy from language

and we speak of pain

with beating hearts

and trailing tips that

dance the ridges

we take turns sleeping

facing out, pressing our backs

accepting both that

we are not our best

always in winter 

I have swallowed

many a wish

yearnings from my belly

she would cradle

my divisions

and I’d

become bouyant

like a ship resealed