All the ways
I did not know
how to love you
catch fire in my throat
wounds poured into salt
along my matchstick tongue.
What was that beautiful pain
sewn to the hips of your acrid words
I open for the taste
of tears tucked under the edges
of my sleeves,
this heart for you
bleeds of longing
wet with need.
Bluegolden bruise,
there is nothing more sincere.
How the colour drinks its own skin
just to twist in the crush
of its thirst.
What is this poison
you treat me to.
In this darkness, I will write the sounds of you from the back of the voices in my body. I will close my mind around you as the twilight haunts the neighborhood, the streets underneath the sidewalk all lead to a single window, glowing full of the sky above your heart. My eyes close around your silence, sleeping in this dream of life, eternity in a cold black place without walls, a room without beginning on a bridge overlooking the end. Baby, where are we, where is it we are climbing to.
But you do not speak. Hair all shades of the wind.
.
Allison Marie Conway 