Fevered

I am ready to stop
stopping,
shatter
beneath rainfall,
let myself be the effect
of a world of causes,
sit out in the Sun,
let the heat scorch me,
as you did then
with fingers and your infinite
concrete-puddle-gather rages,
to dissolve
into tendrils of history,
abandon shoes and shows
of pedigree affection,
run barefoot, booze addled,
fevered with youth through
the blackened hills,
every move blanketed by trees,
dip my shoulders
in words I will never understand,
mate with them,
make wonder from my tongue,
gift it back to the horses,
if they won't eat
force it through Tescos
in vacuum packed chambers,
with all that energy,
built over time by raw,
fearless freedom to exist
unapologetically -
I'll make a symphony
one could play on repeat.