Wordle #185

Wordle 185

I have a suitcase
full of expired tickets
and dreams so generous
that the zipper sticks
whenever I try to contain them.

There will come a moment
when we are standing face to face.
When that time comes I wonder
if words will even be necessary
or if our feelings might be tactile
the way that art is tactile
when leeched from bone.

If you are instinctual
than you must also be divine.
Everyday for me has been
a migration of the soul to its origin.
Whatever happens
I will go on loving you
and when the longing tugs
too hard at my heart
I will confess everything
to the moon
at the height and depth
of my register.

Pigeons gather
at the train station.
I find when the light
hits their feathers just so
they look like oil on water.
There is a sense of rain
in my hollows,
a sense that my smile
doesn’t quite line up,
a sense that my parts
don’t fit together when in motion.
I am thunderous with expectation.
I am all nerves and skin.

I am weaving through the crowd
like a needle tugging thread
and there are people on all sides
bumping into me without acknowledgement.
There is static in the air,
a static which seems to congeal
in the base of my neck
and I am sticky with the heat
of too many hearts beating simultaneously.
I can hear the rumble
of a thousand footsteps
overlapping and in the panic
of starched, irretrievable faces
I sometimes see the spark of cognition.

I wonder if my eyes are blank
and I bite the inside of my cheek
to confirm that I am still there,
still searching, still alive.
My fingernails are worn flush
because I cannot part
with the utility of my hands.

Touch is a way of proving
to myself that I am real.
I have to consciously
raise my eyes from the concrete,
to mark, without seeing,
the exits of any given space
so that when the air
has totally dried out
I might drink again
from the threshold.

Someday I will find you
standing between the threshold
of dream and reality
and we might say any one
of a thousand arbitrary things
in greeting all the while knowing
that we’ve met more times
then we can count and in ways
that only our souls can define.

still a WIP I think