Bandwidth

Every noise is for you.
Sacred congregation of words;
a vast spectrum, and you are
the ghost. The things I whisper
when you sleep are real.

Tiny prayers for your existence.
An exhalation mantra, singing again
the glories of your skin, that small thatch
of thicket wire filament
your eyes contain.

I hear each song as a love scream,
reaching across oceans of silence
to find you again.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s