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We Just Know
Central to the nose
Line down
Lips
Tip the balance
Upon red
My own settle
Build
Internal tides
Heave
Flood in
Thermal swathes
Tuning intumescence
Hands firm
Soft eyes mist
Blinding out reality
We push
Take up the argument
Her eyes black in closure
Lashes long
Lending to
Her sigh in song
Ups my hell of tarantism
PRESENTLY
We cool
It settles me
Adrift now
Spirits share
An entity
Our brains
A metaphor
Of mind
Kind
A sign we know
We just
Know
poem
by
Mark R Slaughter
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