Bones and Blood

Photo Credit: Moiscen at deviantart.com

If my bones could talk,
they would beg you to listen,
to speak so that they may hear
and know relief
from the ache
that’s whitewater rafting
down their insides,
from the missing that eats away
at their fragile structures
until nothing remains
but ashen dust.

If my blood could talk,
it would ask you
for one more touch
so it could burn again,
so it could feel
the rush of fire under skin,
of love in phoenix form
while begging to run cold,
to shake free of the heat
your fingers raise.

If my eyes could talk,
they would crave another look,
another glance at your
shadowed silhouette
against a sunset sky,
and all the while
they’d beg
to never see your face again,
to forget the slant of your jaw
so that they could see the world again.

If my heart could talk,
it would call out
every word I’ve scratched
onto these screens,
every line I’ve sent out
into the night
hoping they’d find your eyes.

If you would listen,
you’d hear
every part of my body,
every atom in my being
screaming out how I need you.

~Patience

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