Breathe through my lungs

Rendezvous the delusions of my word-hair
Unduly considering my love and care.
Dawn may settle for home and why you live
Offering curses so mornings may forgive.
Lease your cage, rib the wells of deep
pray for the nostrils to hang to its creep
hoping eyes will not worry a good love’s sleep.

Neither your heart or veins will hold my eyes
against the drums of the chest breaking water’s ice.
Answer with a refreshed page
not just by the rainfall, nightfall put on stage.
Hold well the blackness of becoming alive
over the grim of temptation, over the bee’s hive.
Open your body and receive me
till time travels through thick pages of a tree.

Allow your mud to crack and pray for karma,
dearly dwindle those bodies to what is dedicated
Imagine less of air as an emoji
don’t curse what has breath and is dead.
In that way, your nostrils won’t just be a khaki.

Ruddapoet [TRCP]

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