Blinds

She's

The moment you clutch

The pit of your stomach

Over the food

You can't reach.



She's

The part of the beach

Untouched by the waves.

The sand

Just beyond the ocean.



She's

An avalanche of motion

When she moves.

An explosion

Of herself.



She's

What you felt

You could always have

In that perfectly played out

Daydream sublime.



She's

Not the talking kind.

So you fantasize

What you'll hear

If she opens up.

An unborn thought

Conjured in the

Guts of the gods.





Unspoken words

In a pot.

To be ladled out

One sound at a time

Rest on her window sill

Just past the blinds.

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