palpitating cardamom
and then some
ice
churning for stylish sanity
burning below freezing in this upside-down-turned-love-story-calamity.
you are my woodpecker
keeping a queen of hearts locked in a facade of pharaoh's tomb-
golden and bright
spirals reaching for the sky
like the tippy tops of the limbs of the blazing birch you chirp and hammer on
your shifting azure gaze causing my regularly resolved self to yammer upon
silly notions
meaningful motions
glassy oceans
and
fiery emotions
until I can reach above
all the etched obelisks of the world
some natural,
some not,
some frigid
some the hottest of hot.
and the only question left on the summit of my tongue is
do you care if we are deaf-
to the noise
to the clamor
to the drama
to the glamor
as long as we're together?
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