enough electrity

radical wind whims – blow me down the curled river of streamed atoms that hunt for me past phrase and phase, the turning pages of my life laying down next to one another saying say, say, say more, sing more, send your sentience through the sense pool.


I held on too close – I want to feel your body close like marbles; like magnets; like traces of footsteps from past lives croaking up the angling staircase towards me – I held on because I want to feel the nape of your neck; curvature of your back; the weight of you; the structure / taste / picking up space in the ribcage / I let it linger because I could not stand the moment of disengage / the breakaway / the fateful walk to the car

I let it happen a little too long, a little too tight, a little too meaningful and let all my meanings fill all the empty spaces between my body and yours /
I tried to feel for your heart between our bones; for the answer quickly without being noticed; to scan the body for remnants of a reason; I tried to peek inside your ribcage /
I held you, strange love of mine and it was enough electricity to light me up all the way home
Advertisements

i try not to let it crack

rattle-roll, i hear the toll of every ticking branch, seemingly seeming to see the end of the season swimming towards us – swallowtail, i swallow the sun in gulps and grants – i grant myself fervor and hot-footed breaths

candlemas, and the turning of the earth towards the light – light, and the turning of the ash to soil once more – and the planting, the thought of the thought of the thought before the seed

a thousand New Year’s days please – the courage of beginning again – the raw heart of a new beginning a thousand times over – in a row, lined like ducks perched everlasting, please – your heart, please, draped next to mine in the cold winter’s night, please – wrapped in a body, a little flesh fragment – a little capsule for a wilderness within 

and you too, your memories reek like rotted seasons cracked at the bark – your skin beginning to crack too, and me, and my memories beginning to crack too – your scratchy, distant face, the way my caterpillar of a heart cocoons itself when it flashes to memory – no longer mine, no longer yours, the frozen thumping of a blazing hot season of youth traipsed over my eyes – forever young, forever frozen in the heat, forever wild, a creature of agelessness / it isn’t that i feel old – it’s that the curvature of time takes you away from me, moves the strange temperature of your soul from a dark blue to a hue i cannot recognize, am not supposed to know how to recognize ; the distance both a time and space – a relativity of distance longer than a word can be described ; a perpetual dying, a perpetual freezing

I find myself literally dreaming about the spring during this season, the goosefeet of mid-march drumming through the rain, the cotton wind of the clouds currying over the hillside, the mist of a meadow that sits somewhere between reality and me – and myself, the virulence of my body allowed to breathe, no longer strapped into sinews of cotton and corduroy – i dream about my flesh touching the wind again, the sunlight touching my hair again, my feet able to run into morning dew, my eyes able to open to the splays of green and yellow – i dream, i dream, i sleep, i hibernate my heart, i try not to let it crack in the freeze, in the ice-sheets blanketing mud, i try to keep it balmed / i try not to let it crack