“Refugees”

“Refugees”

If,

if I fall for you,

slow and steady,

jump ship, adrift

in Swiss Miss streams,

following the songs of Sirens,

… do you accept my quiet death?

Choking on chocolate skin,

your sharp slivers penetrating me from

within,

with

elongated nails shooting

stars,

into my shoulder rims.

But what wish could I make

upon your fallen stars,

bouncing down the highways of my nerve endings?

I touch them only to feel myself fall…

and where once stood walls

of Jericho,

just a crust

thin as crème brulee,

remains,

as we crumble,

with the kiss of whispered words,

hiding beneath the breath

of softness lusting,

of sweetness gushing.

Our gathered selves lock,

into soul-pools

enmeshed between the skin of our

chests,

catching

the echo of each other’s breeze,

atop

your mattress of marshmallow dreams.

we hide our tears in mile-high piles

of green-tea leaves,

remembering inside we’re just kids,

and any moment could be ours

forever,

even when our bodies wither,

could a cup between us empty,

ever?

Is this forever never, except for a moment?

could you remain,

yours?

and my own,

in mine?

Your silent eyes spy my

defenseless fingers,

sketching answers in the dawn-sky,

as they twirl through

your whirlpool hair,

I stare

into your dark gaze,

under the umbrella of my falling locks,

But I must ask

are we really here?

We could throw away our keys

into the hot boiling stream,

flowing between

our sleepless fields.

our consciousness

parting,

along the twisted railroad track of our sweaty seams.

should we count these rings?

how old are these wasted trees,

from whose branches your blackbird sung,

how old are these wasted trees,

from whose tips hung vagabond clothes,

how old are these wasted trees,

from whose shade were shared

love of lips, beneath

their shared ovals with black-dot shadows,

cast from the last leaves of autumn,