Literature
safe-house song
you tie your words together
like loose thread, leaving
nothing left to trip over: no trail to follow.
your voice is shallow, heartbeat
steady as the cadence of the second-hand.
Away from the window,
admission flows forth like mercury.
yes, i held my breath. yes.
i can still smell the earth;
can still imagine the
vignetted
insouciance of spring
bursting into sepia life
like the birth of toads.
[some things are not so soon forgotten.]
i want you to know, sunflower
intimate with the ba