I ache tonight.
Take me down
to a cool bed
that isn’t mine.
Dress me up
in a different time
and call me by
a different name,
because I ache tonight
within my frame,
and cannot figure
why.
I ache tonight.
So shroud me
beneath ocean colors,
seaweed arms
to take me whole,
and tie me down
to volcanic vents
where I can feel the heat
of the earth–
of another,
because I ache by myself
and cannot figure
why.
I ache tonight.
Deep in my soul
for not a reason
other than to call
to an old war wound,
like a stomach
remembering the gap
of famine days.
So take me fast,
take me smooth and cool,
past winter leaves
and greenery,
to stoneless pools
of everness
and ensnare me
from the sky.
Make me breathe
like fish, like seas,
till I can melt
into someone else
because I ache
to be me,
because I ache
tonight.
Author T.S. Lowe 