Something In You

Something in you moves me
to anger. To magic.
To a man’s emotion
and a child’s tantrum. Something

raises me off the ground and
pounds me down.
That sharpens
my gaze and grinds my stones,

like a river, to smoother angles.
A thing in you
that wrinkles me.
That reminds me of long flat days

and pointed nights. Where the air
can be seen
escaping. A thing
that when I snuggle up closer,

growls, and moans, and huffs
before it falls
asleep. Safe
at least. Raring for a new day.

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Author:

A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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