a home is a coming and returning
i yearn for the sweetness of silence.
in the pangs of a secret silence,
thoughts come of an edible fragility.
how male, some swells of fragility,
confusion distending, descending.
awful light begins its descending,
your palm traced by my fingertips.
the scent of jackfruit on my fingertips,
the moonbeams commence in their rippling.
the camcorder makes grain of a rippling,
glistening seas through a crevasse of sand.
hands clasp the migrations of sand.
a home is a coming and returning.
