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I am still a dove, in the mouth, a sigh of relief. If you reach out and break the sky between us: wonder. Light refracts, no? Spill out; reveal that underneath is this naive color unbothered, and unwilling to sunder the interregnum between discovery and under- standing. High expectations, higher, so high— how did I get so lucky? and who am I? I—
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Soda Drink
Our love could be a soda drink, Perhaps you think it strange to say; You're sweeter though, filled to the brink And quench my thirst in every way, Your effervescence every day. This cup n'er empties, always topped Our love for each has never stopped.
The cup, our home; two souls complete; As cubes of ice, I jostle round. But nothing fits, like two left feet, Feels out of place, but then the sound Of you poured slowly, heartbeats pound. And every space, yes every hole Is carefully filled as ice-cubes roll.
The sounds we hear as passions meld, As bubbles rise, meniscus kissed, Our love in phases, locked and held In bonds of rapture, no more missed; Were two, now one. We coexist. In you I melt, forever be: There is no I or you, but we.
Ferrick Gray © 2016 5.7
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