Poetry by Robert Okaji
If I am the leaking valve, you are the whisper
tugging me back, the hummingbird’s nectar.
When you speak, the thunder listens.
When you brush your hair, stars erupt in the mesosphere.
Your gravity transcends all others, tethers me to life.
In this frame, on this bed, at this instant, I melt.
I relinquish the green beetles, the rodents of destiny and all the little
trees. I relinquish my sorrows, my secrets, their bluest songs.
You are the storm’s respite, the eye of the world at the night’s
last turning, the bridge between hands and the healing stone.
Robert Okaji lives in Indiana. His work has been published or is forthcoming in The Night Heron Barks, Vox Populi, Exilé Sans Frontières, Salamander Ink Magazine and elsewhere.
