permanent fixtures

Every sunset begs me to hold you,

kiss you like you're here

So I've started staring at the moon;

it never blinds me the way you do.

Every question begs an answer,

but I'm begging for silence,

stuffing my ears with strands of your hair:

Entangled and deafening,

crucial and beautiful,

permanent fixtures,

threading my lips

With stitches of love,

keeping me silent,

keeping us static,

with mountains of meaning

trapped under my tongue.

Here is the gift of my shortcomings;
tear me apart.