Ebullition

[vinitakshv]

There is a space
between my ears
that grows every day,
stretching itself like a ballerina's spine
until your words, like sure darts,
find their homes.
Each word marinates in timid welcome
and flits behind my ear at night.
Each thought cowers in front of a question mark
until it hears you speak.

This space echoes
with your words, arriving like sirens,
paused only by
a demand for a response
but my tongue retreats into its cavern.
The words do not have lifespans--
they travel to the tremor in my fingers,
the ache in my temple,
prying my eyes open
on still nights---
swelling

until a scream erupts, an ebullition,
quaking with years of silence
disguised as hope. I watch as
it holds your gaze hostage.

Finally, I have a horizon
it stretches its arms
beyond the imprints
of your tongue.