there are hours and days
twisting a feverish
mist into one
large gulp of fresh air

smooth; we are sedated,
slowly beginning to dream.
we have espoused the sunrise
and swallowed the dawn
with our hands

as children outside older
bodies watching an old film
full of flowers blooming
at four hundred thirty two
times the rate of
reality, and we
no longer exist on that plane,
emanating beams of blue
twilight in place of words
that would say in exasperated
desire, how satiated we were
from all the salt dripping
down sternums,
pooling in the space between
ribs, that tasted like dawn-light.

sinews unweave.
electrical boxes full of ventricles buzzing
with a foreign current
so strong, it
knocked us backward upon
initial contact.

darling, i swear
i saw part of the cosmos
separating the iris filaments in
your right eye,
tiny nebulae trying to
explode our cardiovascular
systems by
showing us how to drink each other
until the sun comes up.
we are escapists of
uncalibrated strength
manifesting ourselves into
ideas only shakespeare could
conjure up and
cummings could express

our morning hours creep like
spiders on the bed sheets that
wrap the green of comfort around
our bodies floating fearless and in
disbelief.