Living inside a kaleidoscope ribcage
Listening to the sound
of my own voice I hear
thunder crackling inside my
hands hold oceans,
I, have forgotten how to swim.
I pull apart
Your spine like bridges
That I no longer have feet to walk across you
were my everything.
Constellations swimming across your pastel cheekbones fragile rivers broken hands
forgetting that my arms are no longer a home to hold you in
against your bloody mouth
the words across my skin like ocean
I, will not leave you.
Rushing down my ankles waves breaking like a voice
Empty hands filled with calloused memories
I can not find a place
to put you down.
The sky painted across the side of your face the stars climbing inside your
mouth the words across my skin like ocean
Breaking like your voice