Sprawl across
My face
Transparent--
I
Feel my
Eyelashes,
And the tiny half-
Moons above my cheeks
That sink and rise
Like ocean tides--
Because oceans
Never sleep.
The edge of my tongue
Grows dull,
Desolate--
The fount;
Paramounts
Abandon
The hollow quarters
Of my mouth.
No echoes here
For travelers.
You incline your ear,
For the
Colorful
Collect-
You brace yourself
In anticipation--
A mark of
Foolishness.
I am not your potion.
You haven't heard me yet.
You haven't heard me yet.
You haven't heard me yet.
