to my mother//tug of war

broken thorns

scratch

catch

against

supple skin

arborescent fingertips

spin

vines around

the heart

the lungs

 

and you’ll want to exhale

but your ribcage

is climbing up

your throat

and you’ll want to

stay afloat

through the wetblack

glimmering

river of –

 

hope

strangling

despair

dangling from

anger

sprawling over

affection

 

it’s a tug of war

we switch between being

the rope

and the

hands

pulling,

pushing

each other apart

just to restart.

 

we’re both trying

to glimpse past

the haze between

our eyelashes

squeeze past –

sneak past,

the gap between

our two front teeth –

the gap between,

our heart,

our words

 

and we try,

and try,

and cry

and try

trip over each other’s

broken pieces

with glue in our hands

intentions

waiting for attention

 

sneaking glimpses

 

calloused fingers

spilling over the other’s cheeks

wiping away tears

and

dust from

everyday life

sinking into comfort

with a twinge of pain

but it’s home

anyway

so we don’t stare

anyway

 

and in the end

we look out

windows,

where the rain starts

abruptly

and we’ll be

softly

grazing,

gazing at the sky

 

and

we’ll find each other’s

shapes

in clouds

and sounds of

faraway lullabies

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s