Samson’s Hair

A baseline that you feel in your chest,
Humming thick in your ears,
And your mouth,
You just want to live in their blur of impactful words,
That you don’t understand,
Because it’s just a baseline to you,
But have you ever felt so proud of someone?
That what they’re saying, or what they’re playing or who they’re being,
Becomes the only thing that’s keeping off the rain,
And you can see every tooth in the room,
Every heart that becomes unbroken and
        every heart that breaks,
Well it’s a shooting star,
Baby it’s gold dust,
Because his gaze is tattooed on your body,
Under your sweater,
Under your skirt,
Yours is a crime scene littered with his fingerprints,
But you’re no murder victim,
Know when it’s dark,
And subtle shadows are all that remains of your bodies,
Finding all the bones in your shoulder,
The piano strings that move your fingers,
And each indentation of your spine,
Is a bible,
But God won’t give him strength,
It’s your skeleton that is fortitude,
You’re the dragon protecting the castle,
You’re Rosie the Riveter,
You can hold up the world with perfectly manicured hands,
You will listen,
And you will care,
Let him breathe in the fractions of your soul that you exhale,
That way,
Every standing ovation and
     every wound that heals,
Is saturated with the influence of you,
Though you don’t understand,
That baseline you can feel in your chest,
It is yours to be proud of too.

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