walking home
under
the inexorable
force
of last
night’s
full moon,
i am
thrown
into
your inevitable
path.
my head bent,
my shoulders hunched,
i looked up
and i
stumbled-
hands
and knees
and splayed
and down.
feet
and
plunge
and
trip.
this abyss-
we made it-
too suddenly,
too late,
too visible now.
i am
walking
somewhere
on
the verge
of
waking.
i dream.
i grasp
your hair
your throat your
wrists your hips.
you.
press my lips
tightly
to your
locked
heart and soul ,
find and hear
and match
the neatly
pulsed
rhythm
contained
only
within you.
and
then
awake
to
a new
and
sudden
dawn.
you see?
i don’t
think our
napkins
are folded
at the
same
table
after all.
the why and the how,
the then this now, north is south.
this compass broken
heat humidity
and i lick the sweat from your brow
humidity heat
she
hears
all his
b i g w i d e w o r d s.
she
hears
them,
takes them all in,
pares
them
back,
exposes
a
curiously
fine boned
font
beneath.
We kiss
like
we
always
do.
And I
always
need
to taste
you,
always
need
to bite
you,
you
your lip
your tongue
you.
always.
Taking
you
all
in.
I can’t
help
myself
anymore.
Always.
always
this kiss
always.
always.
always.
my
body
remembers
and
when I
think of you
there is
the keyed up
anticipation
of the
tightly strung
piano wire –
waiting
for the
hammer
to fall,
the
music
to
start
so i
walk
into
this
empty
white
corridor.
It
resounds
with
the emptiness
the squareness
the
multiplication
the
amplification,
the
recurring
emptiness
of
this
world
without
you.
the gu/ilt
framed
weight
of your
expectation –
it
crushes
the
butterfly
bright blue,
the
glint tint
of
these
already
battered
and
wind torn
wings.
