Long DistanceIt was long long long agothat a promise was made,frozen to be kept safe in a block of iceat the edge of the earth.And I never saw the writing;that place is only a picture in my head that I imagined.It was a priest who inscribed iton stone or paperor on some fleeting notion, as priests often have.But he gave me all assurancesand I placed my hands and my trust in his hands,as I listened to his spell work so wellthough I was not superstitious by nature.So now the longer I waiton the other side of the worldfor the ice to thaw, the more I know that when I see him nexthe will sadly shake his head and say, "Who knows what we can do my lovefor that is the nature of spells."
A Love that Would be CompleteA child watches a spotshe's been watching disappearbehind a wall, and come out the other sideand though she'll pile on memories it won't be therethe spot her one true loveran through the gathering hills came swarmingup from under sidewalk panelsdashed along rooftops like rain,always the same, in uncountable numbers andflickering on and offoh love - the firefly spots of all the worldwrapped me up warm those daysLove, I saw you oh so rounda concept, clean, clean to myugly unfixed waysYou went away and you came back againThe same one, and I felt safe from harmA child makes lists and blocksUnfixed upon the printed pageOnly to dance with an illusive loverWho is the most luscious kind"My love,Did you know that a babywatching some object move behinda nontransparent planeand then emerge from behind it in another locationwill recognize it as the same object."Oh love, I would recognize youfrom across the crowded jumble of my head.You were so round and so sure
Girl 1She came from the waterAnd did not existToo white from the moonToo pale in the moonlightToo shrouded in mist.Her cold-spark eyesArrested time.She hovered suspendedWith her white cape hangingHer tissue-white dressSoaked through and drippingHer eyes were flat as disksAnd blueColor-struck and placidShe waited foreverIn untouchable silenceStillborn at nightAnd framed by the forest.
Frosting AirFrom where did it comethe crackle in the bone of manthe noise of substance snappingAnd the grind of rage?Was it in the fire, those hot summer dayswhen sticky and juice-dribblingyoung girls in parks first teased cocks.They two made love in the honey of the sun at twelvewith their eyes and by eating sweetsher ribcage pumping up and down, she thoughtthis is loveto be anointed with tea-cake frosting, adorned with leaves and adored in a young boy's stare.He was a man of actiondetermined to fight stalwart througha yielding bed of rosesand crashat the mist that sways in the breezeethereal, and only valid while elusive.White, pliable, and untouchable.Her hands worked with the frenzy of the beasts of the wildracing toward their natural goals.Each limb plunked by a heartstringstuck in a solid heart of air; calm, and dazed,glazed eyes and a glazed soul.Her passion loosed like the storm around the eye,She waits to be dispersedAnd is this why he smolders and cr
Hope for GazingI want beauty to die, slowly and painfully.I want the subservient muse to go the wayOf other cast-out barbarisms;For a sleek red dress to slideDown a stoic frame and melt to magma,Standing jewels to thaw and cry, and each firm frameRun in terror, and hide its structured self in shame.They know they belongFar away in a world that was craftedWith grasping hands,Cemented with fearful hearts,Decorated with the gushings of a one-sided lustAnd overgrown with the in-bred vines of aSelf-spent passion.The world rotated once,Shaking loose brambles and bad ideas.Between two sheets of fog I sawMy love caress my cerebellumAnd drink my breath.Then we both held and moved through each other in turn.
UnicoMouth - warm pillow.(is, not like)To cushion smarting lipsLike lips of mine.Eye - a sphere of sea, sapphire, sky.A field and every field of hairPan outward agelessly so I may sayOne follicle (has the nature of a)Star in a tender swirl.(like) Conglomeration, making up the wholeSpeckles wrapped around me(are, not like) my constellations.This shape (is) my long lifeBy comparison. EssentialPath of thought, how to re-arrange you?Souls of mine are variousWritten and dispersed through spaceAnd paper.Not every glimmerOf having you is traced one too fewSitting down to think of you is. (like)
Problems in Speech and RomanceMy student body unanimously loveda little sprite spun into a silent cloudBecause she was small and lovelyAnd never spokeGrave eyes and a sensuous faceHinted at knowledge beyondHer sizeShe exemplifiedIn her still solitudeThe aura of the mindAnd people came from near and farto try to break herHer boyfriend said of herThat she was a good listenerOnce in a car with meShe performed a magic trick and slippedInto the seating vanishedIn the frame, and did not even leave a smokey trailMy father forgot she was there, and seeing her again, exclaimed in shockMy mother told meSometimes people do not speakBecause they have undergone a traumatic experienceAnd fear that if they talkThey will talk about that traumatic experienceMy mother told meSometimes people do not speakFor the weight of a looming dark solid pressing nameless thingWill spring from their lips,And they prefer to let this weightWeigh down their voicesI once read her facebook profile page,Which was
untitledTrying to direct non-actorsWomen in chic black coats passing byWhere is the other sideThat cannot read my mind?You the mysteriousEasy-going nicely dressedPleasant smilingAre you always as insideAs you are out? Are you always as outsideAs you are in? The cool handAnd the friendly headDo you shakeThinking of a line of strangersForeign thoughts lying under skinNever to be seenAfter a second deadUnderfoot - the passerbyGoes on living