Too Thick for Poetry

Image by Maya Chae

 

Some days my brain
is too thick for poetry,
the blood flows sullen
and heavy in secret streams,
the nerves carry
their own messages and don't
tell me jack shit.

Sometimes the strangest...
like, last night
my feet were flooded with love
suddenly, I'm lying there
and feel this surge
all the way up to my knees
and I don't know how
feet can feel love but there they were
out of nothing, feeling that
I have to call it
what it was.

You can feel your ether body
if you try, it's the one just like
your solid body only permeable.
I like to close
my eyes
and open the others
sometimes, have a looksee.
There's more there than you might think,
but even so, nothing is really
answered, all the questions
remain as they are,
open
like mouths
beautiful mouths
about to sing.

Photo by Kyla