words fail they are
incomprehensible
as they rush and tumble
crashing on the rocks
insurmountable obstacles of language
the flood is frantic
and desperate
and wonderful
I shake and twitch and fidget with
emotion and anticipation that
well it doesn't make sense really
but
warm air like silk or
horchata, rice milk, sweetly and smoothly
flows and coats the throat and
embraces every pore and
I want to hug the air that touches gently
but never stifles as summer often can
I only need walls when
it is cold and empty behind them
there is too much music in this air
I dance and twirl and I
just can't help it I shout just to
relieve the pressure of being human
when this world is made for divinity
