What Knows Itself Ephemeral

Let me add myself so deeply that the two loses meaning, sense that there is no life without the uncomfortable certainty of having you, smile when I vibrate with your voice, and hold me with the brutality with which the future desires what doesn't yet exist. I want to search in your dreams for the noises no one composed, fly through your skies and crash beneath your step, break the walls that confine us in cowardice, and build from the rubble something without a name. I'm going to let the shadows that held me here escape, get the little men who pushed me toward you drunk, take every last drop of conviction, and pour out what's left while the absence of love chews away at our patience. I desire to swing from your waist and lose myself in your exhaustion, feel vertigo in your heights while I scale your tongue and destroy my armor, caress your wrappings with what remains of my torrent, and kiss you with the urgency of what knows itself ephemeral. I've understood that the fields will dry when you stop looking at them, that light will be just light, that no more victories will be credited to desire and the sighs will collapse thunderously before the frustration of the rhyme on sale. And without discovering that everything answers to your energy, you're going to sing at the top of your voice in the moments when the always clears, with that unbearable tranquility that numbs my wounds and erodes me to the bone.