Pavane

this is elegant and steady

a waltzer’s one-two deliberacy in a stream of notes–

surrender scrawled out in lines and circles

i’m handing you my wrists; my bones are no longer my own, so sing

and i’ll melt for you, hook my lungs

and pull wherever you’d like

at this point, i’m just along for the ride

i’m just here so i know i’m not on fire and choking

on my ashes

can you give that to me?

a haven in between the lines?

a place where i don’t think about what i’ve written

and when i dream about love it’s only the right kind?

when you built this place

you imagined a funeral so i’m asking you

hold my head for just a little while

until i find someplace more permanent to lay it down

hold my lungs until i can breathe