Depending on the Weather
On the days when the sky is falling,
Your name is a soft whisper on the base of my skull.
The bell towers of your eyelashes have bore witness to my pain
time and time again.
Often you have sacrificed the curvature of your ear
to give shelter to my heart.
Your hands
two palm leaves for collecting tears.
On the days when the sun is shining,
your name is a solitary prisoner in my rib cage,
fist against the iron bars.
Our voices intertwine like a nest of thorns
fighting for light.
We are two angry bulls with no matador in sight.
Meaning when it is not us against the world,
we simply fight against us.
Amber Watson