oh my.

what such thing
could deliver this hope?
this rising trembling hope
on which i am poised
high above my simple days
and waiting for a
fall.

the throat of such a thing
could from it's humid blackness
hum sweet nothings
into my ears
making my long blue veins
course lightning
standing all my greatest fears
on end.

such a thing could make each part of me
in turn
blaze with a cold fire of anticipation
and buzz with vibrating
happiness.

each in turn, but not
all at once.
that would be too much.
it would
all
be too much.
entirely too much to bear.