Petrichor

I have placed this ruby against my lips.

I will hold it here till one of us

ever needs to speak again

and then I will swallow it,

edge by shining edge.

The rain is slinking nearer now

to slicken every ledge.

But brusque brevity

beats incessant babbling,

I truly, truly believe.

Just don’t trust you’ll see 

such sublimity from me —

it’s like I need to speak to breathe.

I was not a traveler by trade.

You were dripping bits of sunshine. 

I was trying to maintain shade.

We paddled to the middle of a lake,

got carried to its curvature

on a wake, and on the bank we drank

something swizzled till it all evaporated,

till what’s unsaid got elevated

to what’s unstated.

Now you say you’ll be away for awhile.

Isn’t that nice?

Oh, isn’t that so your style?

If you’re wondering,

I’ll be wandering up and down this tiny town,

single file.

But brusque brevity

beats incessant babbling,

I truly, truly believe.

Just don’t trust you’ll see

such sublimity from me —

it’s like I need to speak to breathe.

How high is the heat gonna have to climb?

The typhoon’s counterclockwise and right on time.

And I am here below you: all bones in your shadow,

all mercy a faint vapor on your lip.

The rain came and went, and the sun with it,

but love like this will recrudesce again.

So I have placed this ruby against my lips

and I will hold it here till one of us

ever needs to speak again.

It better be loud, better be a shout,

‘cause there’s no hearing from me now.

It better be loud, better be a shout,

the sweat rappelling down your brow.

It better be loud, better be a shout,

‘cause when the rains return, the worms come out.

When the rains return, the worms come out.

When the rains return, the worms come out.

When the rains return, the worms come out

like words from your mouth.