The seagulls above my head,
Your hand on my skin,
The heart that is concealed by it
is the rhythm
I fail to hear.

I am the grain of salt
you placed on my tongue,
I am all the languages
I’ve ever thought
-but can’t speak now,
And the day is too long and

I wanted to cast no shadow,
I wanted to feel as nothing
ever belonged to my lips,
my limbs,
I craved for them to be drenched,

For my head to be too heavy
to look up,

My arm too weak to retract from your grip,
My ears too lazy to all the sounds
my body and yours would make.

I wanted to cast no shadow,
I wanted the moves
I am projecting onto the universe
to prove me I am wrong,
That I am made out of nothing but

What perpetuated
in my head.