my body becomes so small
I could fit into the minuscule heart
of a sea bird begging salt with his pulpy tongue.
A discarded shirt hangs on the bed post
and traces of you remain where
I return and return.
My cries unravel the clouds,
rain down like summer storms.
Carry me close, deep in your heart,
through the rhythmic sound of
railways, the snow covered alps
or the black tar of foothills.