Published in Lux Undergrad Magazine 2011: No Words Come Forth

No Words Come

 

You may find enough has come

to make this barren morning

 

the milk swirls in a teacup

and separates the music spirals

into your ductile membrane

 

You find that enough has come

from doting over datebooks on every page

of which is printed a bite-sized tidbit

of “wisdom”

 

You find enough breath at the bottom

the milk spreads out and blossoms

a bilious fomentation of words

mingling graveyard dancing thoughts

a clotted dune trickles into the pit

 

the moment of your demise

you can’t think of anything catchy

but stare out with blank eyes;

the hills catch falling boughs

a sunrise and your last vows

 

a tempest-tossed teacup ascends

unsteady rising in rawness

to the horizon of your eyes

it leaves a burning wet mustache

and an aching silence