enigmas of an introvert

sometimes the sky slants
when I stare away from your lips
towards the blinding cracks of sunlight
maybe with the dusk the clouds will re-configure

I couldn’t tell you why my irises bleed
when your eyes lower to lock onto mine
every so often my arms freeze in their sockets
when you reach over to test the waters 

I have unuttered bitterness sprouting
like vines from my skull, and as you softly pluck
wildflowers hang momentarily in the air
like wind chimes on still afternoons

gusts of stale smelling smoke streak
through the space in-between our forms
as stutters of newly forming secrets drag like a hunting knife
from your chest to stomach and back again.