Dying To the Sound
Your ring tone bleats out
I'm rushing to your name on the screen
We've spoken everyday for months now
Somehow the message is still new
I follow your wily path
In and out of doors and glass
Fondling the fresh grass
Absconding with a bottle of wine
Your sultry words wind into me
Boring a hole and making a tent
Curious to see the recent illumination
How your sun battery unfolds in the night
We talk for hours
Each luminous moment holds its weight
Distance collapsed as I enter
Your swollen lip embrace
Wet with thoughts and ideas
Brain children we incubate
A signal sent from the window ledge
Marking where you will finally jump into my arms
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