my eternal high

your eyes have a silence that draws
me in, a force of the Inca’s that
pushes me out from consciousness,
into a chasm unknown to myself, where
i wish to wail, but i don’t because
i’ve refrained from sound all along, and
the voice of your silence, that which
you speak not of, is the single inhale
i need to propel me to my eternal high


About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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