words

the light gone,
dreams i’ve dreamt return
from their quiet corners
like lost things
in the early pause
of reasoning things out.

your smile is rain
in this arid climate
and you have gone back
to conduct again
with your orchestral hands
symphonies in my heart.

so quiet in your absence
the calm is paralytic,
a low echo rolling in waves
along this tuxedo soul.

my hands are spiders
dancing upon your skin,
my mind a projector
of wild thoughts
splayed out on the wall
in strobic trails
for you and you alone.

my words curl in the air
like falling leaves,
i crush the universe
in the palm of my hand
and render from its torn filaments
constellations, dreams, satellites
like strange pits
from some dark cosmic fruit,
all things sifted through
and sorted out like memories
in worn brown boxes.

the world turns
and the blood courses
and your reflection burns in the light
along the rim of the glass
and your eyes, your eyes
are an entity unto themselves
that dim the stars in such stark contrast.

-S.C. Martinez