you hold words from the page
breaking them in half
in thirds, in fourths,
you use them up in the air
like fourth-of-july sparklers
orange white against the night
you use words to seduce
to move your tongue on your lips
to press your lips into me
like time passed over
for memories of pages
white and black
against the darker night
here, we are in daylight,
here, you read to me,
and what I hear
leaves me filled with spaces
like clam shells
filtering for more.

07/10/2005

Posted on 07/10/2005
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