Andrew Rea

Not Etymology

in the space between
breaths    a Secret
language uttered from under
fingertips &    the paper
thin    bruised skin
of your thigh
        like nothing
I want to say

for any thing for
ever    for you
in those dark alleys

surrounded by the rises
& falls of chests
the momentary
contraction
of gristled diaphragms
& syllables    like millions
    of slightly imperfect
Mythical Atoms

invisible & scattered
into our furrows
for an autumn harvest

we are falling
apart like a banana
peel    the hiss
& snap of
our Speech
burrowed    blind
as rain into
a metal roof

just Talk to the air
like the vein
of a leaf    Slow
& peeking
from under
the surface of words
that wrapped
around    My Tongue
    bind & wrestle
us into corners