what i talk about when i talk to myself

by Chuck Young

when i talk about your mouth
i’m talking about a 35,000 year old flute made out of bird bone
when i talk about god
i’m talking about the joy in not-knowing
when i talk about faith
i’m talking about the beauty in believing
when i talk about love
i’m talking about the infinity in feeling
and when i talk about death
i’m talking about the measurement by which we cherish time

so walk with me out of this movie
notice with me under lit marquee
that it is dusk and it is raining
watch me as i immediately peel my shirt
to begin the long way home
see with me the sky a glowing blue
and the clouds fast and dark
projected upon its rice paper skin
imagine with me that we have stumbled
inside the magic lamp spinning shade
that sits atop a pristine white bureau
in the nursery that god had built
in preparation for a baby
that would never come
when i talk about your soul
i’m talking about a lullaby
the earth sings to the blackness of space
as it pirouettes around the light
by which all tiny miracles
are given birth

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