tuiteamach / falling

Standard

when you speak to me of love

your voice is all constricted,

your gaze is down,

watching restless movements,

birds circling your feet — today’s incompletes

drowning in substantive

thought — i can feel it — the reverberated

shuffling, night’s ripple of uncomfortable,

mistimed tuneless

unorchestrated movements,

the awkward in-betweens of our life.

and yet.

full of care,

care sits right over there,

with you. sits where you sit, somehow

it fits, & i am — comfortable

for the first time — in a long time. yet

my heart is pounding, rushing, flowing,

pulsing, growing into you, pulling away.

blooming — booming — my voice

is all avoidance, avoiding me, the day,

my feelings as all the words flow on repeat

and rush away — flowing forwards,

rushing, running,

leaving me.

standing -— still.

my mind

and all contained — will never find the still,

the air around, the room in which we sit

or stand, to fall.

i fall, i fail.

the continual fall to fail,

below your feet.

and who am i.

a passing torment.

a passing — wasted

moment,

inside the blink —

of your eye.

©kbain2018.

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