—IT ALL MEANS SOMETHING

                                     Hopelandic

I want to speak Hopelandic with you because nothing else matters.  I want to spill gibberish across your skin in silly dapples, sift through the clouds of your hair, climb your chin, toss copper pennies from your toes, write a sonnet with the haughty tautness of your left nipple.  And you can brush all of your rubbish against my spine or hippocampus, take a mint vacation, let your fingers chatter and decode atoms in the ether.  If you twitch, I’ll catch your vowels, suck on your consonants, bathe in your conjunctions.  I’ll paint you meringue, make you flowers from the sheer wing of disorder.  Together we’ll gather the night, unstitch every dream, tie them around our tongues and swallow when we’re good and ready.