Say it to me again
he crooned
as If the soul swallows me whole
and the floor becomes the hearth
to cook the language back to me

someone told me it was fate
that your name was the echo to
my tangled daisy chain dreams
so I laughed
nodding along like your name wasn’t seared into my every atom
every fixture, ligament, lung
nodding along like the second I saw your face
Every other flower became obsolete
no longer wanting roses
But daisy chain dreams

why must we chose
to pick up the shield
of weighted fear and cemented caution
caged in what if laced around comfort
or
to wield the open palm
where everything could land
and rest in a cozy embrace
or be brushed away
with nothing but a whisper

it was simply
silent
Something never before touched
hearing the pitter without echoes on your skin
but not deafening
without millions of howls
not crippling
without thousands of demands
it was simply
walks along the sand with nothing to hear
but his heartbeat
and my own
except I was doing laundry
and the waves were simply constructed

I would say ecstasy but that’s the wrong prescription

my darling, tell me
did you think your dismissal of my devotion would create the landslide of consciousness that would sweep me under?
did you honestly think, my endearing Peitho
that i would stumble?
like a drunk lost in memories of the past
drowning in the waters of murky dreams and empty promises
clawing and clammering to the foot of your obsidian base
to ask for tuppenece of your abject admiration

did you think i uttered 'too soon' under my breath when you walked through the doors in a Kermes gown to be the muse to all
beckoning the second movement of a symphony
drawing your audience in
that such suitors could claim you with mere words
before unleashing your cacophony of destruction
like you did for Cassandra

while you may have, incarnadine Peitho
the adoration of all
those that caught the taste of crimson across their tongue
when their drunken hands where so foundly engraved by your obsdian base
marred beyond admiration
knows what your persuasion
tastes like

What is more torturous than knowing the art
seeing the velvet lust filled crimson
The midnight where she touched your hand blue
And resting without movement
Because you couldn’t pick the right medium

Would you have waited for me
As I, you?
Did your ears ***** at the sweet mention of consonants that had kinship with your name
or could you have sat
as moonlight and daylight became distant revelations
becoming heresy that no longer changed how you wrote your name on the small of my back
Did you think
I would forget the smell of bourbon on your lips
chasing away the steel in your tone
No.
You wouldn’t have