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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.
