I gather her - limped hair & pale bones Out of the water, bedraggled as washed- out page, skirted & flamed by love's complicated twists & turns - I brush the wild flowers from her cheeks- Scrap away dead leaves & tangled roots- Gently, I press on her lips- sip this brew Stirred with orange & yellow seeds Mixed with tea leaves & sea- weeds, stained with effervescent salt- Hovering pollen dust swells Into pools of blue sky- Open your eyes & hear the murmurings Of cinnamon trees, of red-song birds There's a place for your dreams, sacred & untouched by anyone but you Beautifully shaped by love & will There is the garden Where you can run freely & be My hands will guide you, a step at a time, until your voice grows stronger Again, Love is madness But you are braver than you can imagine- War & peace, ink & sword Your hands can birth & hold them, fiercely as sun- There's a murmur, I hear - There's another beat, I see you Rising once more, My beautiful daughter Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Play it again & The Art by Odilon Redon and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~
the night's spell lingers after we are joined ribs & hands intimately, your name still on my lips scent of musky leather & spicy jasmine- this is the charm as we knit a reunion: there is seeding & watering of roots, each raindrop, a caress that dares me to risk & fall further into your beautiful nakedness- warm as soil, bronze & startling luster I'll always remember - Touch me, I am parched - you spin this raw canvas the bluest-purple sky I have ever seen - my wind-song, electric as samba drums- refrains an evening star, pearl-luster & opulent- cover me with mad pollen of spring and let your mouth seek me as it was - your first kiss turning me pink-petaled under late April sky-
The radiance of the morning dazzles because you're here unequivocally claiming all of my heart-sewn words -
I don't see her often, a whiff of shadow in mirrored wall or pale afternoon sun But come night, she's a secret to be unfolded- Something parched, something incomplete Oozes out, become threads & ink Her fingers lift to charcoal the empty page
Blurred by moonlight, she fetches a storm underneath the quiet sky & labels it- Rapture - The red moon is all hers, There's electricity in her lush ebony hair.
Where the path breaks into different crossing There she runs to see what's coming next, next- Come morning, there is body she inhabits. Numbers. Efficiency. A box within a room. That is what the world wants to see. She complies by dropping a token in the metal box . Only her belly grumbles from this subway train chase with its door chimes forever opening & closing - Seeds. How she loves beginnings. Every first stolen kiss, a stab of memory lingers like dewdrops.
Desire. The quick inhalation of passion. Warm wine. The bleeding of hours, sweet as tangerines. I sometimes forget how she writes, what she dreams of, but she lingers faint as I'm right here
By candlelight, she creaks to life, awash with wild asterisks & stars I couldn't number - Her pulse grows stronger, every season is an awakening We disappear across the page, a duet of shade & light -
Everywhere is rain, colored of iced tea And I'm sinking, half-awake, half-asleep My one hand cuts thunder, while another hand turns the door closed My one eye is weeping willow tree, while another eye wants to get rid of bees My lips insist in replaying each word you said while my tongue lingers over your name: a sweet fruit, melting of dark chocolate - embers of long kiss, sweat from your brow & back - There is madness in having two moons speak in broken proverbs & torn sentences
All words are lost in translation Except this fevered war on nerves & bones I curl deeper into this woman, foolishly believing she can tame a wildcat of a man The cold strangles my throat, I want to escape But I'm in limbo, floating in your perfume
