Linguileria

Tumbling through the froth and foam
the sea above
the sky below
craving what i have not had
mourning what i do not know

Racing as i do not move
they look confused
they look concerned
laughing at what is not there
forgetting what i have not learned

Building walls that do not stand
the howling wind
the pouring rain
lips exploding on my lips
fingers tangled in her mane

Falling always, falling still
towards a center
towards a core
that’s the hope in gravity
who am i to ask for more?