Friday, July 11, 2008
bells furnishing the insides of your ears with music
my breathing feels like the tidepools. i can feel the ocean heave and my pulse is aligning itself with it. the air is thick here. you have to push your way through it, like putting your shoulder to a wardrobe. it hangs on you. tells secrets to your blood. you have to move it out of the way just to sit down. it is madness. my tongue is sweet with the fruit. my hair is filled with salt. i walk my feet barefoot, sleep beneath hurricanes, keep the best bird songs behind my earlobe. i shudder with the breeze, sit on the porch like i am a desert, and think about loving. this beating thing in my chest, it seems to be trying to escape. and i have a fairly good idea where it wants to go. but it has no passport and it doesn't speak spanish. so it is stuck here with me, while she helps the turtles to get living. but it misses her so. it really does.