They swrld with the night.
They did the closest dances,
Clsd the distense tween them.
And the moozik of the wrld playd.
Composing poems with the body,
Legs straight and strong like wooden beams.
One hand holding the white crescent back of the other.
One hand cupped about the face. Orbiting each other.
I wake and wear the sunshine proud on my face.
Here’s the fifth morning of April
And here’s the open air cool at the screened door.
A gold-fire sun, little gardens
Glowing green in its light.
Plant the world. Sing it strong.
The moozik of the wrld plays.
I’m the one who’s committed to having your voice
Tattooed on my skin. I will sit as long as it takes.
My ears are to be fed by you
Because this is the moozik of the wrld.
I’ve waken, you’ve wandered through my dream
For the brief hours I bare not being with you.
Because sleep is a curse when I would be awake with you.