The Store Stump

i've caught the butterfly wings of this day in my gut
skies washed with sun and smiles caught by their hair in between these teeth
everywhere chests are opened, voices unleashed
on my hips I carry these flutterings and swayings
the weight of a hundred windy tendrils of spring

your eyes are grayed and chasms open where you tread
I'd almost like to climb up away where your teeth, lips and crinkled eyes are huddled
in a cave under the floorboards of a house
somewhere inside

we climbed here once before and called this place Japan
"look how the rooftops shift and lean" you said
we had daisies in our hair then and only violins
in our young hands – catch me up now, your arms

they strain with a new awakening, we've held lakes in our fingers
leaked out them all, our guts
our fears, watering our feet; we've leaked out our hearts
and torn eachother into ribs and bones

now on sweet slopes we tunnel, soles warm with dirt
hold new light in our palms and break into this hilltopthe beeswax on your lips burning mine, bright hummingstrung between our collarbones.