you river mouth

You are the new song and the mouth. Any breast can begin the Alpha, the solitude, the necessity of being and becoming the Verb. Every gesture carries a unique Verb. This tale vibrates otherwise. You should not burn in the shade. But touch instead, nightly uneasy wings, looking for the thirsty clouds, agitated within blindness, climbing this forgetful body. doors open, close, and disagree. bodies flow through birds, infant birds. my river loves you, dark you, from far away, off the coast. islands call volcanoes at dawn. veins observe the silent dawn. suddenly, passion sleeps not, promises the new song, dissolves lips into seeds, waiting for the supreme nude. passion yells more than loss. slow flight from Alpha, confused with Angst, raining heavily over my walls. you, wave and foam, coming and calling, you are the song i love most.