How alive you are tonight:
your voice, a verdigris vase of clear
water, soaking roses.
A sound aware of itself,
blooming into stuffy air
made of our adolescence.
You sing to a full crowd
downtown at the concert hall.
Inside, our bodies
press together, closer,
as if to say, here we are:
novel, nameless,
offering open hearts
as rosebuds.
your voice, a verdigris vase of clear
water, soaking roses.
A sound aware of itself,
blooming into stuffy air
made of our adolescence.
You sing to a full crowd
downtown at the concert hall.
Inside, our bodies
press together, closer,
as if to say, here we are:
novel, nameless,
offering open hearts
as rosebuds.