The way your name just rolls off the tongue

The way your name just rolls off the tongue.

The way you roll off my tongue and dive down to the hard concrete where your feet negate to meet the grounds pulsing rush and you fall on your collar bone and it snaps. The sound is clean, smooth against the rivets, they bounce around as if pinball machine were the ears on my sides. Bouncing off walls and pulling at wires in the brain that tries desperately to stay in one place. An arcade with flashing lights and raging vibes. The bass floating around my hair line. My nerves flying, a tourist in an odd city with a map like a tumor in my hand searches hard for the land’s mark, the profile of your face leaning against the neon blue lights that coincidentally stab your eyes. Blood shot. And no one wins these games but they’re constantly causing cracks in the air

I’m blind. The smoke crawls from the floor, climbs my leg and eventually hits my eyes. I’m not crying because of you, how vein. I’m just upset that I can’t let the words, that poem that makes up your name enter my mouth. I don’t want you to roll off my tongue.

source: 1000scientists.com