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IP:
Mosiac
dreaming of a deity,
who crashes against language.
such barriers of the tongue,
we wish never to speak
plunging into silence
& sunlight mosaics,
betray
the slight shadow of your voice.
i dream of you
talking into me,
as though reaching
with words
you've carried for many years
in your hand,
now spilled horizontal
the length of our eyes.
this is how i imagine you;
fumbling to swallow
voice back into that
shallow organ,
beneath
your throat.
__________________
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-CS- -
Stayin Fresh Til Death
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2004 Poet of the year
3X writer of the month
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