he tips too much that god who sits across
from you his gestures of
extravagance they bring me down they bring down
tongue and sense resounding with
my longing I am lost within the mirror
of his eyes he eyes my fleeting glances tripping
feet as chairs tip over coins
resound or laughter they’re all turning
to enjoy my wan surprise yet revelry
runs fiercely through my senses
as through the burning house of poetry
my mouth lit up with dazzling fire more
free for all my loss of words
than all the tenses from subjunctive to the sea
can sing
too much I say one day I’ll say something
from you his gestures of
extravagance they bring me down they bring down
tongue and sense resounding with
my longing I am lost within the mirror
of his eyes he eyes my fleeting glances tripping
feet as chairs tip over coins
resound or laughter they’re all turning
to enjoy my wan surprise yet revelry
runs fiercely through my senses
as through the burning house of poetry
my mouth lit up with dazzling fire more
free for all my loss of words
than all the tenses from subjunctive to the sea
can sing
too much I say one day I’ll say something