I want to create with you
Venerable vulnerabilities
I would give you any minute of the day
How do I open my skull and pour myself into your hands?
If your hands aren’t outstretched, will I splash all over you?
Pool around your feet?
If I pour too much, too fast, will I spill out of your grasp?
If I don’t pry apart my skull, will I start to push out of myself?
Will I cascade from my eyes, flowing down my face staining my cheeks?
Moving from stillness
My blood vessels flood with radio silence;
Some much faster than others
Causing the silence to flex against my nerves:
Pins and needles.
Wax Poetic by Julia Johnson 