words by dominic riccitello

to find you in dreams,
i etch you.
the feeling of you
is ever so melancholy.
i remember your knees,
fumbling to be,
breaking to find
eyes of midnight,
butterflies
in the crest of the moonlight.

i find you
between doors of thursday,
stuck in daze of fumes,
consuming desire,
spinning on ice,
melting in the fire.
i wade into blue.

i can taste you,
salt of your skin,
the words,
harsh toxicity.
and i still wade
between rapids of conversation.
i extend into
your words against mine—
eleven years
to blend into.
i feel you.
the sound burns my skin,
your voice in the distance.
i reminisce.

we exist in moments—
in the past,
in the present,
in the future,
in the holographic universe.
i theorize you
in question,
yet without hesitation.

do we blend to move into?
do i close the doorway just to find you?

the clock strikes
a few past midnight.
i still feel you there—
in here,
in air,
between the mist
of everywhere.

to break between cracks,
the details of moments,
the beauty in evergreen everywhere.
a taste to feel
the vibrations of your skin,
sweat of your forehead.

i question in extension.
i feel the noise,
the thrusts of yesterday—
moments turned cold,
ice breaking,
water melting,
fumes of my years.
all that was said
was extended through moments,
years and constellations,
years of circling our conversation.

three words and a beat—
i told you,
i remind you,
i believed in you.
words hold meaning.
choose how you breathe.
accept words to find you
in time,
in flights,
in question,
in how you hold your breath
when you feel this again.

words by dominic riccitello