first thing I’ve written in months and months

I’m going to take you to where the sky falls, where the stars bite cold, where the ocean tastes the shore, leaves, and then comes back for more.  Our bodies were made for dancing, like your hand was made to trace shivers into my spine, begging the feathers to grow.  Flight pulls us toward the moon, like the tides, all silver, filling the sky.

I want to be there when you realize what joy is.  When you fall bone-struck into the wild hymn the wind has been trying to whisper to you since you clawed your way from the womb.  Your wounds are deepest harmonies you forgot about.  Eyes wide open.   Hands empty.

Chords igniting in your veins.

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