20. galle

and in the turquoise-milk waves
there is a moment suspended

when you forget your name, and the tongue that forms it–
the strange clicking syllables that have knit themselves together to mean
peppercorn and Advil and ten million atoms of you–,

and you view yourself as a stranger
who smiles in bubbles.
oh, you glorious thing.

you incredible pile of happy mistakes,
you have traveled thousands of miles
to bathe yourself in the same puddle of water.

won’t you remember this in the times to come–
in dreams–
the impossible taste of forevers?

One thought on “20. galle

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s