7/14
Sometimes when the words are right
they refuse to move at all,
tremble at the switch of the clock's twitching wrist,
In this shape
meaning is too big for a single moment,
too heavy to be netted by a collection of letters.
The weight will release you from your skin,
no matter how hard you cleave to the page,
but it is vital to make those g(r)asps,
stretch the legs of your heart,
one foot tickling God
the other still hooked into gravity.
Happy. High. Drunk. And in love.
Will not lockstep to any rhythm,
but sink into the footprints,
dissipate like dust in the dry horizon.
The right words dance along every quantum frequency.
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