There are some things the mouth finds increasingly difficult to spell …….
There are battlefields within us where nothing is able to grow, where our past and its ghosts search tirelessly for a warm place to die, where the white flags hang over the funeral of God and our limbs become the mirrored skyscrapers that attempt to intimidate the sky …….
For love will only know itself through vulnerability and needing the body to shake like a collapse and say hold me here in the places where it hurts …….
Bring it here, bring a love without a past or a future, a love with nothing in front and nothing behind, one that’s yet to be named as anything that could ever hurt, one as pure as the dream of an unplanted seed, as bright as the exact moment a newborn opens eyes to greet the world from the hot arms of its parents, a love that will walk back through your battlefields and help bury the bones that protrude from the earth of anguish, that will set sail along your scars blowing kisses down their crooked river …….
Salvage each other, let it all go back into where its needed, make peace with waves and know that the moon tonight is pregnant with tomorrow’s sky …….
There are some things the mouth finds increasingly difficult to spell, perhaps that’s it, perhaps that’s all anyone is ever doing, trying to spell love with the letters of another’s skin.
Anthony Anaxagorou