another summer song
whose shadow i
pick off my skin, peel
from cavern walls
where the thunder rests and
trace down
into nothingness,
that i won’t sing out loud
but hum inside my head, over
and over,
over and over
repeating until i get the words
right, exactly and
at angles from the rest,
naked and distant
from the nesting clouds of thought
with blurred edges who
refuse to come clean
and declare themselves;
the teasing lullaby
i can’t quite make out
to quiet whatever pain
there was, the screaming now
bare echoes.