i don't want to hear.

stop your racket, let me curl up
into my
self.

forget the new, the change,
freeze the turning point
melt my bones into quick sand

love is like a disease;

wherever you go, i

most certainly will follow

my body is a door
the fist that knocks upon
it is
my heart

the poets
they, the dead ones
speak of matters such as eternal, and everlasting

excuse me, pardon me
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
beautiful, ornate, twirling speech like the spires of Notre Dame

forgive me, please, my dear poets
my words are plain, crude but they do
hold my spirit.

oh, i digress,
i flutter here and there



*
*
*

know this:
i travel you with me
our paths never separate at least not to me in my mind
i am stationary, still, steady

only when i hear
does the earth move under my feet

only when i see
do i feel off-tilt

you.

you make me spin off my axis,
corkscrew out of orbit,
hopscotch along the stars
dodging comets, heartbeats, metaphors and tears

only occasionally,
i collide.

words unbind me, but only sometimes