Poetry: the calm he keeps

gurgling eardrum music waiting to burst

he never runs                  when I bleed creativity into the streets, leaving it to set with time                          I don’t know how much I have left in the heat of this moment, I’m different every cycle  

                                                                                                             “that’s why I love you”

hysteria sketching knots in my shoulders working its way up with crayola fingertips pressing marked identity

he kisses 

the smacking density from my forehead lifts streaks of stain and doesn’t wipe away the messy muddy

                                                   archived versions of myself

                                                    that I’ve been hiding up there 

when he pulls open the splattered sheets and sees the colours roll out

he smears them over his face and says

                                                                                                    “I knew I’d find you in here”

and we discover our favourite colours together -- Originally published: https://femspacecampmag.ca/articles-%2B-creative/f/the-calm-he-keeps

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