One dreams
of the im/possible then, figuratively, lives it
as if it had been always
the corners of (their) fingers
all along.
You whisper
words (of love) that are not ‘love’ per se,
but everything that squeezes in between each letter unsaid.
as if I had been dancing
on rock-salt poinsettas
and the curb of my stomach
one foot extended beyond measure, a leap frozen, cracked,
ice-shingled,
and draped over my forehead,
a crown biting and bitten
by teeth and stalls,
strewn across speechlessness.
I found my senses walking
a dog the other day.
He did not recognize me
but said,
‘you seem to have lost
all your marbles’
you put me into ‘you’
wrapping me into kisses
I was quite the package
a bundle of lips that you could tie
with just your nuances
and an odd sigh or two.
Unraveling into leaves
the birch of my thigh up
against throes of skins
there’s only so much
that this body can do.
I think you said,
‘you’re an angel’
(I wanted to add quickly,
‘only yours, yours only’
but the dazzling scenery
of your breathing compelled me
to open my eyes instead.)
A tortoise shells unfolds
in, to the palm of my hand,
without a sound and smooth,
‘What startingly symmetry’
I laugh, out of a room
looking at a window, without sleep
but with the distinct impression
of your torso on my chest
(I lean over the rail with a pain
in my gut of rust)
today was the last day.
Especially the wrinkle above
your lip
I think I fell into it
when you said something
or the other,
you must’ve been smiling
at the time
or I was delirious, either way
I can’t see, or it,
or the way our bodies held
onto a figure on the bed
with a mind of its own.
your skin, your eyes, your smile
(every turn deserves another, one rotation
around the spindles and you at its heels)
I relive each moment before
‘another moment trespasses
the first’
between pauses,
your nail pulling the shade across my back, tracing my nose
where you gently bent
and kissed me.
You are the everythingthread
around me keeping warm.
I had but one path to follow,
the one from your navel
to your sternum, and back down
and around again (and again)
until your skin glistened
with one intention between us:
to break through this scalding
blue distance into petals
and toss our selves to the wind,
floating and free.
there is no other taste
other than the one of your mouth
that you place on top of mine
as i held you
in one place, in one time,
in one area of surface skin
where neither one of us had
a beginning
or an end.