Pillow Talk by Alexa Abbruscato
I want to carry myself like the wind, she tells me.
I want to bend into your body and have it taste like magic,
flow into your soul.
A lot like weaving rivers,
a lot like scratches down your back.
An estuary dance into sleep. My wife is a conductor to
her own orchestra of breaths. She dreams in fruit and
A lot like sorbet.
The hush of her own rest births a new sound of
serenity, and every pitch of release ejects a new
star out there in the cosmos.
She is the wind, I tell her.
And she is music too. I know this as I watch the
rise and fall of her chest creating a crescent in
the shadow of a salt lamp.
A lot like celestial orbit,
a lot like still symphonies of space.
My wife paints nebulas on a pillow, and I count the
constellations on her back, it’s a timeless affair where
there is no aging here.
A lot like dreaming.
With a gravitational pull towards our territories,
we are a collision of elliptic galaxies and bone,
supernovae in stone.
You are a universe, I tell her.
I want to be the ocean current that is moved by you,
I want to make sound of spatial silence, and dip you
into my cup of stars, I tell her.
A lot like discovery,
a lot like planting seeds.
Lex is a senior at NAU and will be graduating in May with a B.A. in English and a certificate in Creative Writing. She started writing her junior year of high school and found her passion in the slam poetry world. Lex was involved in a spoken word group in New Jersey and in the Flagstaff Poetry Slam here in Arizona. Her poetry tends towards the sublime, sexuality, and the colors within the cosmos. This will be her first publication in a creative online journal.