Author: Rory Sorenson
Teach me your secret so I can see
the way you listen to your world.
Can I give you something broken?
Would you fix it
or remake it
or just let me be?
We spoke once in a dream you had
I forgot what you said when I asked you to
give me a truth.
I kissed the question
to your hand,
and held its echo to my ear.
You should know
A part of you
will always be inside me.
(Or maybe me in you).
Describe your favourite sound to me.
And why it looks that way.
I found a story for you to whisper,
Just keep it hidden in your lungs.
Because salvation found me early,
—being baptised by your tongue—
you must carry my misdeeds from now.
But you will be my burden
when I am
fluent in speaking you.
I’ll let you close enough
to love me if you promise that
it’s only pretend.
And you can leave
Take my feet
into your hands,
and press me to the ground.
When it storms, I
smell you in the rain.
(Have you ever tasted lightning?)
It reminds me of your scent
when we first met for the last time.
I’d missed you for eternity
when I heard you hiding moments
You sing in your sleep
when you think no one can hear your breath.
Let me act like
this is our final night together.
Just give me something for my journey,
so I can hold on to my home—
Your calloused hand.
Before I go,
I’ll leave you with
the map your eyes traced
on my skin.
You could find your way to me.
When I’ve waited forever to feel you
what’s a few more moments apart?
Featured image courtesy of Mona Khaleghi via Unsplash