The trees are clamoring, my head is  a mess

Of burnt coffee and silk.

Your skeleton hand makes my brain sing

And tears through the rhythm of my ribs.

Stop talking and kiss me.

If the spiders are right, and you

Have lost the necklaces I gave you,

Let me return them.

Don’t fly higher than the flags.

There is nothing up there but ice.

My sense of freedom belongs on the slippery rooftops, but

My sense of reality mustn’t freeze.

When the sky is wilting, caught

In the ecstasy of rhapsody

I am on fire.

Are you watching, waiting

Do you struggle to speak

Do you hide your intentions behind verbose confusion?

Have you forgotten how to use words?

Have I?

I am spinning a web and my hands have been caught

Listen to the silken vibrations,

They are singing for me what I cannot say.

My head is blue because I stared too long at the moon.

The crickets have all been cursed alive

For medical malpractice.

Don’t crush the twigs like insects beneath your claws.

I am afraid to ask for it;

Your teeth are too sharp and it

Hurts.

Is that all?

I am alive with ashamedness,

The night is growing sharper as it

Melts into an eternity of clouds.

Stop showing up where you are most wanted.

You leave too quickly.

When did this go from a poem

To one side of a dialogue?