20

is it odd that there are certain things i can bring myself to do,

            in some rooms at my house and certain things i dare not conceive

            in other rooms at my house,

            i am a stable and unstable thing

            constantly failing at some things and succeeding

            at other things,

            the last time i called you ocean, you turned to dust in my mouth

            when i tried to taste you as dust, you turned again to ice in my mouth

            i tried to swallow and felt nothing but air, i misunderstood

            then i figured you must be the vibrations i felt, constantly moving as energy

            in my path, i felt fire in my belly and when i bent to see if it was you

           i hit my head against a rock then i was sure you were the rock

           just before my sight turned, to numbers and shapes and words

            then i became aware that you are everything i can grasp within my breath,

            and turn into a holy pursuit.