We Stilled The Hours

I want to tell you my stories
whispered secret into your ear,
and feel your struggling lips go soft
with our conspiracy.

I want our eyes to
dance past the cynics
(who have bet their forgotten
innocence against us),
and peer beyond this anxious world of
toothless fear
and swallow deeply
outward
all
space
completely until

we feel
our lungs rise as the tides
and its singular pull
with the heroic moonlight
throbbing in my heart

as we found home

and stilled
the hours.



Copyright (c) 2010 Paul Matsumoto. All Rights Reserved
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