Universe Aftertastes

There is an aftertaste of the universe in my mouth
light years away from the crumbling insides of my self.
They have started pouring themselves into my void
and I've been swallowing the vastness
they slip through the insides of my breasts, tummy 
through my legs and down my feet.
My feet.
The sand under them have been rolling away with the retreating waves,
I'm shorter with each lick
until I can see my feet no more,
they're buried in sand:
the universe is finding its way back to the ocean.
My fingertips are atoms
and they burst into pixie dust
as I try to grasp my galaxies
but they slide away into the waters
though the pores in the sand,
air bubble worlds in the froth.
I can't go after it because I can't swim, 
drowning actively isn't an option.
I can't die like that.
Well,
It's going to take a while
but
I can't see my ankles anymore.

Terribly Tiny Love Letters 08: A Nameless Stupor

When the window panes are raised and the doors are firmly shut,
when I’m locked away in this little world of mine
I shout out your name
because I’ve not said it aloud enough times.
I’ve not heard my own voice
say it such that I can hear it hanging
around me;
and so,
in the silence of a shut car,
I say your name that echoes in my ears
a time or two
to hear how it sounds coming from my lips
and aloud
in difference to
the thousand times in my mind.

~Hemu

Image credits: Madame De Papilon