with my shaking finger

i trace your ribs like mountains

i drink in the birdsong

lick the spit from your tongue

 

the calmest i ever felt

was when i reached for your hand

now the hate turns me on

like you never could

 

if this was war

our cities would be rubble

our eyes would sting with the dust of the fallen

our tears would feather the dirt

 

there is a space within me

that i have filled with roses

the sun paints my soul with hope

my only god is time