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Literature Text
Black and blue,
skin and sky—
water down the drain,
I say
as the red line of dawn
breaks over skeleton trees and
the
windowpanes
shake with
you.
skin and sky—
water down the drain,
I say
as the red line of dawn
breaks over skeleton trees and
the
windowpanes
shake with
you.
Literature
Foam Over
I know her secret:
she has no bile
or sweat or blood.
She's just cloth draped over
soft cloth, it is what
the edges of my hands remember,
recanting dreamily to each other.
I have made her dirty with affection.
We both are waiting for sunshine
to foam over the hills.
If you lay down in the park long enough,
someone will pick you up. Even without hope,
someone will pick you up. Even without hope,
someone will not let you lie there and burn.
Literature
circumventing hearts
my frail ankles, wrists
are inversely proportional to
your broad shoulders, chest
so it goes
that
your touch, though tangential
comes at me
full-bodied, whole
whereas
your low
Literature
Moonrain reverie.
I.
March days return with their covert light --
in the wave-strike over unquiet stones,
there, where the waves shatter,
you are the daughter of the sea;
but I like you calm, as if you were absent,
so that you will hear me.
II.
I hunt for a sign of you:
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair --
perhaps not to be is to be without your being.
Tie your heart at night to mine, love,
rest with your dream inside my dream;
and because love battles,
maybe you'll remember that
the tree is here, still, in pure stone.
III.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines:
"I remember you as you were,
in my sky at twilight" --
here, I love you.
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Ugh.
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Comments20
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'skin and sky—
water down the drain,
I say'
I like how the voice came across in this.
water down the drain,
I say'
I like how the voice came across in this.