Poem Hunter
White Noise
JJ ( / US)

White Noise

White Noise.

The stage slung low and light
so strumming sounds can breed; at night,
in a dream, I saw the song
we understood we’d sing.
Simple lines, a steady scene,
we smile, quiver, and beam—
The slope of sweet
along thick sides of sleep.
Finger tips sink into strings
to twist notes and release.
I hear you turning ribs on hinges,
watching our skins crease.
High-strung rhythms pulse and tighten; press
ringing ears
on rippling seams—
A solid echo, lull
and rise,
and heave.
I swell with silenced needs; your mouth
swings wide and,
the amplitude
My open heart can breathe.


User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes )

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.