Daniel Fitzgerald


Daniel Fitzgerald

Patient for movement,
Dead while we wait.
Your eyelid moves
Rhythmic with our heartbeat,
Calm in the new found safety
Of this good book.

Paragraphs tumble together,
Nothing comes correct.
Definitions clarifying separate,
Nothing feels wrong.

Electric fingertips,
Jagged hips,
Muffled moans,
Ignored phones.

Home is where the heart is.
Heart is where the home is.
Is this where we keep it?
Is this where we make it?

Sleeplessly rounding on me,
Your eyelids stay closed,
Hair faintly smell of rose.
Breath on chest burning with future.

I can always tell you tomorrow.
Another freckle needs a kiss.