a reliquary of long-forgotten things:
rag-dolls, ravished (embraced thread-bare),
and other antidotes to childhood fear;
daguerreotypes; unburnished promise rings;
baby-grows, outgrown before first wear;
coin-collections, three from being complete
propped by pill-boxes, garish and discrete;
a butterfly-clip which once pinned thinning hair,–
each shelf, a shore for many a life’s debris.
these trinkets outlive our dearest memories.
i tremble, like a still-life carved in ice;
you shimmer and dissolve with morning light.
these tepid fingertips, like matchsticks, struck;
we melt at the mere suggestion of a touch.
orbiting eyes roll backwards in delight,–
swirling in sockets
those brilliant comets
streak burning trails across your line of sight.
and so i flare. a stargazer, i stare
at the planetary body
(which eclipses mine completely),–
“this bed thy centre is, these walls, thy sphere.”
a nexus of nerve-endings,–
a never-ending, + ceasing-too-soon
display of our skin’s ec/static circuitry ::
your limbs, illumined, plug into mine.
[i’ve never known these nodes to glow so bright.]
im/pulses flash in energ/etic hues
as my wires entangle [+ enter] you.
a hymn of non-being
“we’re inversions of one another.” | another one of those revisions where
difference is reduced to metaphor
i fell to your feet in a clashing avalanche.
my body, a boulder, blasted into shards.
the sound of dynamite delighted you.
when i crashed into your quarry,
i made sure my ruins boomed.
we lay in animal calm,
rocked by the chalk-soft valley.
bodies and boulders;
skin and stone.
a sharp laugh cracked across the cliffs;
(peals sang back from the chasm’s
the sunset blushed,
and broke our idleness.