flying or falling.

A crash, an immediate silence, a yawning-
the calm air bathes my thoughts
each night I curl up helplessly in the embrace of your memory,
yet every time there is a falling
-out, the ground drops away.
You swallow a handful of air,
the solid ground ripples and waves.
Ash like a dry skeleton coats your tongue,
wings dipped in wine-
try not to drown in the air around your feet.

Every time your eyes meet mine,
this is when I fall
-apart, let's fall apart and shed our skin,
close our eyes and breathe fire in.
Days spinwheel into night,
sleepless and bright.
Who let the stars in?

Everything burns
like the salt of your sweat on my lips.
(and it holds you
like the wind holds you to the edges of things)

© 2004 : Jenny Ryan