Apricots And Accidents Of Being Loved By Me

A Poem

Photo by Dainis Graveris on Unsplash

A future without anything new
hand-me-down skin
figure accidents happen
because to try means
accomplishing something
beside caution thrumming
a possible harmony
in the necessary wild
of terror, apricots
and accidents of loving me.

Thrum cautions whims
thought of nothing until now
how a world can be waiting
in your throat and all
you need to do is
open your mouth
to let it be born
again.

Universes seduce skin
better than I do
become an epiphany
an exclamation point
in a human
how we spin planets
around our orbits
and never know
our own gravity
until it pulls us
down like a lover
looking to have us
only to themselves.