Poetry Dance of Death, of Breath

Take me to the Center
Words dance around Circle all day I need them. My coffee is silently sparkling
The wind is begging for my hand
Poetry is stop.
                              stopping time. but must there be lines of jabber

to see the space between?

Who will show us where to look?

Peel the sugary glaze off our Eyes.

And when Eye speak with my tongue,
Notice only my breath, it wears You.

My tongue, 
                              turning around the Center

a back-up dancer to our silent song.

And when we stop,
We’re suddenly Home.

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