In the cracks I am falling through your words.
In the cracks I am the hardness of your bicep where my head rests, has always known.
In the cracks I am inside your endless disregard of my zenith of awakening.
In the cracks I am the quiet kiss that the beep affirms, that plays with my pleasure – insatiable for your notice.
In the cracks I am your spirit lover, the one who impinged your feelings…the ones that my wings would soon set free.
In the cracks -your cracks- I am fucked-up, hands together over the place that holds breath -my breath- and I want my reflection back.
In the cracks I am your one time longing, feather falling, the one that swims through pulsing white rocks filling space of emptiness.
In the cracks I am young art, folded in wrapped scarves. Draping my belly from sight.
In the cracks I am the opening of my secrecy, my floating eyes, the clench of a pelvis searching for breath.
In the cracks I am slipping in each, in each, in each.
In the cracks I am falling through words.