the unknown | poem

between your mouth
and crown, i’m waiting

for a silent answer

to a silent question

like an atheist who prays.

stitches aren’t thick enough

to fix our broken souls,

so i’ll take the pieces

and unify, starting

with fingers and auras,

third eyes and toes. i’ll lace

the pair of us like shoes,

so we trip and fall.

i want to play with your spirit,

your sap, your being. i want

to turn your tears

to tea.

my favorite part

is not knowing

what you’d do

if i did.