I want to cry quietly into our bedroom,
crawl over your tongue slide down your esophagus and
into your stomach to take a wet warm nap
our bodies under the weather
your breath and hands
the edges of their shadows crisp
let us absorb the sky
the bottom and the top
let us break the water
shake artifice from the afterlife
create/arrange/replace/resay/offer up
crunch bottles over rocketships
while little children sing “we are so small” in their heavenly accents
I want to hear words always and speak them
each wing singly stretching
