Noah Georgeson

An Anvil

Noah Georgeson


Here you come 
Brandishing weapons
You've got only one 
And it's not even sharp
Gnashing your teeth 
I'm the cave 
To your matador
Or else I'm the bull 
Either way 
You're in charge

And the day rings 
As bright 
As an anvil

But I've sought 
The shade of your 
Pendulous tongue

And the night falls 
As heavy as an anvil

But I've kept 
My warmth in the wool 
Of your lungs

Here you come
Harpoons for fingers
Haven't the fins 
To defend me from harm
Flashing your teeth 
You're a real 
First class carnivore
I'm not the meal 
But still 
You're in charge

And the looks were 
As hot as an anvil
But I've gone to sleep 
In the shade 
Of your tongue

And the mood was 
As black 
As an anvil
But I've sought 
The warmth 
In the balm 
Of your lungs