I don’t trust my tongue; it trips me

and tricks me and leaves me stuttering.

I prayed for a way to show you my feelings

without the cumbersome casings of words,

so easy to misarrange and misunderstand.

To pull out my soul from

down behind my sternum,

give it a good shake, and

wrap it around your shoulders;

that was what I wanted.

 

When the day finally came,

it was the end of the world. We saw it

on the horizon, ominous and edging ever closer.

Some believed it was divine punishment

for our wickedness;

others, a cruel trick of fate.

I took it for the blessing that it was. I found you

on the steps, alone, watching

as the sky was engulfed. Your eyes glinted

violet from the sky

as they met mine.

 

I sat with you and uttered not a word.

At last I took your hand, and then you knew.