I hold such bated breath My hand a brimming trove I hold such spinning wheel That my years gape wide And I say yes, as true as troilus
The moon having all to do with it, we wait and speak of nothing. I stare at your wealth as a Moth would at a light Our lies squeak like bus breaks on a boring hill As false as cressida you take my hand I look into your eyes as into a foreign vowel, gathering my last words around me like Photographs in a flood
I hold such bated breath My hand a brimming trove I hold such spinning wheel That my years gape wide
I could take this to you later But I take this to you now I must act quickly, you see Before my mind invents a cold
Their love ran a faultless course, their eyes trained on the same source, their hearts pregnant Like salmon with millions of tiny hopes Troilus: Girl-shy but brash-hearted, on the cusp of full living Cressida: Bright-eyed but wary, bouncing on caution's weakest knee And when she left, gutting the house of its contents as she went, a cold emptiness replaced the Full feeling, leaving him as hollow-bloated as the deflating bulb of the stomach that Remembers the child, love nursing us all into need Banking on the deep well of their love to bring up water, he waited nine days for her return His patience a novena of noble longing
And I say yes, as true as troilus In privacy of heart I shuffle vagary And trick and the millions Suck at my bowels like mice
Like a boy troilus begged for her return, rumors of her dissension like the cruel whisper of The winter wind hissing through the porch teeth. Nine days of wondering how the clock could Summon up enough vim to muscle through the minutes. And on the tenth day something died Swelling like a tumor on the april path, ten days of sitting still, only to hear his heart break Those ten times over
On the tenth day something died Swelling like a tumor the april path Ten days of sitting still My body buckling like the belly of an accordion
And I stay true, as true as troilus, and as I wait for you my life grows cold in waiting Your truth sedated in the sleep-hub and your silence at the helm of our wreckage, I sit alone in my Confusion, dwarfed in not knowing why, my heart like a brass instrument that is spittle-heavy wheezing out In the small font of a footnote, I beg for the tight screw, the green light, the hungry flutter of White hands at the blackening keys, to hammer out my own truth, weave a sharp confession My knuckles chiming over the launch pad like church bells
That to be pianist And hunger at the keys In dreams airlifted out From where I toss alone in scrimmage
In dreams airlifted out, in dreams airlifted out In dreams airlifted out from where I toss alone in scrimmage
I catalogue the moments of our beginnings Remembering how my body shifted like an easy tide As you pinned me to you In these days of endless complaint I raise my hand to cover my eye As you did to yours, only to second An open eye for yours, a heart for yours A promise for yours, only to hold In jest, in dreams, in supplications In jest