LOVE Poem: the divine serpent’s tongue, by Isabella Bullock

1.
words clog my ears like parasites
I pull them out
one by one
yet thousands make their nest
they move
deeper
fill my mouth
as sweet as tangerines
and warm as butter
eating what’s left of my I am
they leave no room for doubt
from wandering limbs to docile mind
for once I’m not alone

2.
going 80 in a 25
the cigarette-scented Little Tree dances
as our wagon wobbles over absent ground
I push the windshield with my toes
in hopes, it’d crack
I pray we crash
over the river’s barrings
maybe we’d float
and they’d bury our bodies together
but what if I went
without you
would you pull me out?
would you live on?
I look at you with empty eyes
sometimes I wished you’d go
then
and only then
I’d leave you

3.
sky bulb
lightbulb sun
whisper weighted vows in vacant pews
make them trite
they’re watching us
from baths below the ground
guide me through empty clouds
take my hand
with copper palms
breathe life upon my pale cheeks
open my eyes
just enough to burn
like silver
make me new
make me whole

4.
sit with me and listen
over burnt-coffee cups and strawberry pancakes
under dim yellow light
let my eyes gaze at yours
and your lips
through broken glass
let me speak
and listen
for when you rest
your head below my chin
holding the weight of your grief
I will
listen

5.
when will we reach the speed of light?
will birds still swim through clouds
and mice in murky streams
or will the water fall
cover our feet
rise
drown your “I love you”
let the river’s mouth kiss your nose
and fill it
wash the dirt beneath my nails
swallow my grief
and carry me
above the sea
engulfed by raging redemption