the daylight that kills us with passing
Posted: March 20th, 2012, 8:11 am
Let me see.
If I sit down in front of my laptop,
with my fingers on the keyboard,
will I begin to write with the urgency
of my lips?
Will they speak of my love
for you in the braille of my fingertips,
outlining the image of you forever
transmigrated in my heart?
Will I go a thousand kisses deep
with Cohen and feed you orange blossoms
of our redemption?
My love, do you remember the shards we put together,
one by one, lacerating our tongues? The
exquisite torture of becoming lovers, again.
The last line of this poem?
~A
If I sit down in front of my laptop,
with my fingers on the keyboard,
will I begin to write with the urgency
of my lips?
Will they speak of my love
for you in the braille of my fingertips,
outlining the image of you forever
transmigrated in my heart?
Will I go a thousand kisses deep
with Cohen and feed you orange blossoms
of our redemption?
My love, do you remember the shards we put together,
one by one, lacerating our tongues? The
exquisite torture of becoming lovers, again.
The last line of this poem?
~A