Thursday, March 20, 2014

the steam that sits




admit
that there is the breath that bears my name

it travels like a wisp of steam
as you bathe in the morning
feeling like that last Sunday moment 
i kissed your neck 
while fixing your necklace 

and all it asks
is that you make that breath a voice
that you call it what it is

before the day begins 
and it sits in traffic 
within the veins wrapped in 
the skin of hazelnuts
and flourishing summer off the Jubba

the steam that sits on your chest
and calls to you
is the breath that bears my name
asking you to exhale
and free us both
 

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