our moments
are voice.
I've heard them
singing, gushing like taps
pulsing in notes
that stained the air with metaphor
and all the necessary poetry of love.
it is only later,
when the subdued tones
of memory come into focus,
that your rhythmic complexities emerge
and I realize
just how uniquely gorgeous you are.
it’s not only how your trembling,
dreamy soul embraces me.
it’s how you glide through me
aiming for authenticity, rather than poetry.
I am swallowed, we are swirled
and its hard to make out more than
the smoky audible correspondences on
love, finally combined.
this entwined voice lives inside.
my atmosphere is of all its pieces.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem