i'm a song without words?
did you know,
before making a womb of my body,
of my veins,
the accidental tangent
of her skin,
harbors unrest?
hesitation linguring-
behind the bow
between the bend of her knee-
eats its fear alive
with the deepest
sense
of
certainty.
that slick spider
underneath
river intonations
turns its neck on its fingers
in all the right places.

the saxaphone is confused.