feelings

under your spell (crush)

held in a reservoir of shy diplomacy
I peer
from sidelined sandbags
eyes watertight, hands held back

I extracted a century of poetry
from a Tuesday girl
her cliff-edge Wednesday
and fade to black
there's been cliche enough
of splintered this
of hearts that
I've new muses yet discussed
and a thread
of rhyme that's mine to pick up

I sense the impression
in our movement of mouth
to obsession's route out
of depression's months
desiccated
into dislodged doubt

and the unspeakable storied potency
between us
I'm quiet, but
I've a heady tell
that awaits to unfurl
on the tip of tongued curl

breathing the fight
and yes, I write

but
I'm muted.

confession's exile
finds fear secluded
and

a medicinal quell
for my shivered swell
under
your spell