literature

we

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Literature Text

there's this light in your eyes and I cannot see
beyond the scope of words presented to me.
there's this place I wish I could be
but such this distance is lost at sea.
the mind is a tricky thing
with tubes connecting and ebbing
the spheres in your skull annul and sing
of this intricate spiders spinning webbing.
these words are fake and lack luster
and all I try is to speak through my eyes
the purpling face from all I can muster
an invocation of the invitation to just help them realize.
I don't know if I spin or flee
but I kindof just wish you'd come to me.
a touch or a brush the fingertips dressed in lace
the curved bone lined in flesh of a coming sinner and redeemer
to invoke thee in their common grace
in expression of some sort of reliever
so I can finally feel in place
in this space.
so sing and sigh
we all know why
words lose meaning and all I see
is your screaming eyes staring back at me.
there's much unsaid and left for dead
but I believe in a rebirth
kindled from this hearth
this fire roaring and festering and free
and I know simply we can just be.
.
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