darker black

in my mouth forms
the shapes of mountains
but my hands grasp cotton
and Judge Judy is on
so i breathe in apathy
to release
i want to hold you
and not to love you, perhaps
but to feel eternity
with the folicles of your skin
and to trace the battle lines
to call cease fire
at least until we finish
our earl gray tea
in your mouth
a seed
i water.