My ears ring a lot these days

​

It’s when I’m out swimming

without water, just exchanging 

hot and cold

air, so my mind and body feel

clouded by whiplash, utterly so

a hollow ticks away at my chest

and my Peter Pan can feel

scrappy slowly turn salty --

my love, we’re losing never land

 

And now salt is on my tongue

so Pan can live forever in my sugar

filled land, so I linger

on the devil’s number: dreaming of arms

that sweep, a sense of deep

and taken

sweet as ripe peaches

and too many pitted fruits turn my lips

itched and raw, might be allergic --

might be like sipping that pot so hot

the mouth blisters, but once heat is in

the mouth, that fate is set in motion

​

What is set in motion?

I asked my ringing ears

Stop asking they say

and maybe you’ll hear it