inside just a single whisper.
The dangers awaiting beneath
the valleys of your skin,
where handing over a heart and body
have become one and the same.
And I never quite say your name,
I breathe and exhale it,
the letters of your identity
forever joined with mine.
When I’m alone in the night,
you become an incantation,
a hushed prayer against the circling darkness,
a sound caressing every particle of air,
as if releasing you invokes a talisman.
If my shape took on other forms,
you would still be with me,
a carefully patterned mosaic carved from
sacred stones or etched into blessed glass panes.
I know the force blooming
inside just a single syllable.
The dangers awaiting beneath
the world in your hands,
where giving over a heart and body
have become one and the same.
And I never quite say your name,
I breathe and clutch it,
any other proximity to your identity
would never be close enough to me.
When the sky has swallowed each star,
you become luminescent,
a prayer against the demons waiting,
the sound painting atmospheres,
as if invoking you harnesses
a universe’s raw essence.
If my form turned shapeless,
you would still be soldered to me,
carefully joined to every particle in the air,
every towering monument and sleeping relic.
I know your name blooming
from my parting lips can reach
far beneath the valleys of your skin,
where we have become one and the same.
