There was a trace of an inimitable quality, a sense of realness,
I couldn’t explain it better than that. The sky hung in the distance.
There was a cloud in my vision. I couldn’t make it up the stairs.
I did anyway. I felt spring’s moist breath on my wrists.
The promise of it anyway.
The particles from you reached towards the particles in me
and that’s when it became important to understand how and
why forces matter. At a certain point, clocks appear to move
backwards.
You were my Bermuda Triangle. Signals lost, channels
growing funky. Static. Each of us attending to ourself
like antennas. What was my polarity? Silence screaming
at itself to respect why quiet matters.
There was a human wrestling with an angel. There was a palm
against wall. Cool surface of night, warm parameters of flesh.
I thought I could extend my wings for you, eclipse the moon,
prove I was only ever trying to fly.
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