this is how i have loved you : 
in evidence instead of proof

fever me to
the end : i

am almost a
dream again and

internal heat : if
you want proof

(and you always
do always) this

is how i
have loved you :

acid peat : wetlands :
and drowning : cranberry

bog of petite
red rising to

the surface : flood-picked
from the vine

like balloons : let
go in wishes :

heaven’s the ceiling
where nothing pops

before everything does :
or caps lock

on little light
of silent emphasis

and waiting

the genre of god
is locksmith and that’s

why neon is always
looking for a sign :

chose exit : believing was
something like that : alphabetizing

paraphernalia : dust : influence : residue :
a body in myth :

too : will altar its
endings : claim art is

a podium of intimacy :
stand behind it and

make love a debate
where no questions are

answered directly : or else
art is just a

microphone piloting volume to
the back row and

therefore love must be
the destruction of the

silence our small throats
were meant for : belief :

the mute bell of
uvula we gape : gate

in the truth disguised
as side affects and

waiting

 

L. T. Pelle is a NY-based poetess. Her work has been published in Steady Hands” and “We All Breathe The Same Air” poetry anthologies.