Friday, July 3, 2009

soon

To count your eyelashes
the risings and collapsings
of your molded chest
I'd set myself asunder
fall to the thunder
and make myself your home

To fall, to drift
I dream of you
partial silhouettes
rotating faces of lovers
and friends and crushes I have known

Will you be frightened
or elated
at the mounds of poetry
I wrote of you
before we even met?

No comments: