through the crisp smatter of brightblue autumn air:
yellow leaves drift
to sidewalk hollows
& even through the spiced breeze,
the clear vibrance of color,
the quiet violence of these
my heart beats
in the grip of a cold
a landscape of silence
suspended in the moment
in a snowsheeted meadow
a girl with skin sharp & smooth
dreams of feathered golden leaves
& sunlit slats of warmth
falling in floods
of beauty, of remembrance
over her ribcage
over her heart
but it is not autumn
here, and even breathless
under azure dipped skies
i feel very cold
& even my heartbeat, so close
beneath my flesh
muffled by the snow,
by the unshattered stillness
. i am waiting
into the warm.
"Et dans ta chute comme au moment de la mort, ton corps de plaisir et ton corps de souffrance tournent et virent ensemble, faisant éclater de grands soleils dans ton cœur battu. C'est ainsi que meurent les colibris, cœurs fou-fous qui éclatent d'une émotion trop grande pour leur petit corps. Et les hommes qui n'ont jamais osé s'envoler n'ont plus qu'à courber la tête pour ramasser les débris d'étoiles filées." (Daniel Maximin)
For those of you who don't know French and would like to share in my joy, I will attempt a translation...
"And in your fall like the moment of death, the body of your pleasure and the body of your suffering turn and gaze together, making great suns in your battled heart shatter. It is in this way that hummingbirds die, foolish little hearts that shatter with an emotion too great for their tiny bodies. And men who never dared to fly have only to bow their heads to gather the debris of stars."
Okay, it loses something in the transition, but still... gives me chills.
that we are all beautiful
i dream that i have traced my fingertip
along the crest of your ribcage
bare & shimmering;
that the skin has parted
smooth as silk, undraped, unfolded,
to reveal your bones
a calm white procession
light & weightless.
the incision aches
behind my eyes, along my throat,
extending in a bled line down my torso
sweet & blameless,
lay with tranquil expression
& steady breaths
a primordial history read
between the lines of each bone,
to your story.
your name hangs rich & poisonous on my lips
so i scream ... and i scream ... and i scream
until only the white
flutter of your bones,
your heart, drained & beat,
sound through the silence
you will awake
drenched in light.
& i will open my eyes
to the hollow
of my voice
emptied & perfect
fingering the scar of my ribcage &
licking the last syllable
red & fruity
from my lips
that you understood your beauty
and i, my silence.
... pale green wall tiles.
the watery blue line of the horizon, hazy burbles of trees, indistinct mounds of buildings
light slanting in, a pale sweet goldenyellow, on the rooftop
the unquiet churnings of a ventilation system, a slight & soothing cacaphony
... the iron divider cold on my back.
i have forgotten the overwhelming pleasure of absolute surrender to a moment, a desire, another person, a slant of light or a color or a noise. but every time i manage to unravel myself i can only see the spectres of people: lonely mad beautiful broken unseen: and cry out to god to recreate me stronger and stronger
until i am light so brilliant it could be called Love.
i dream of you in this room.
at night the chandelier casts soft tendrils of shadow on the ceiling,
and when i lay in bed staring up at it, i feel as though the house is embracing me.
love occurs spontaneously: a house that immediately becomes
a home; a pair of eyes that burst like white flame
in the last chamber
of my heart ... i thrill with the dangerous serenity
of a life where passion erupts
with the lift of a venetian blind
that unveils a prismed window
casting rainbows over the hardwood floor.
i want to keep you awake all night,
lying close in shadows & sharing breath
silly stories, kisses, the smallest touches,
then pull you into a morning
of light shattering into
of my heart distilled to
a single desire:
you in this room.
i sometimes feel i am
wandering down the sidewalk
holding god's hand
and sometimes she will pause
lean down & whisper in my ear
"katie, look at this!"
and we'll stand there,
staring at a fall of light
or a pile of stones in the gutter
or a withering flower petal
and ponder the divine implications
of such small & perfectly imperfect things.
i wonder if i could wear
like this trendy new t-shirt
slid off my shoulders
if i could weave my cotton pajamas
to silken folds of ivory
over slender, elven limbs
if my cheap box spring could acquire
the pillared grace of an antique
four poster bed
curtained with gauze & starlit
if the visitations of dark shadows
at bedtime, their otherworld
caresses could transform
an awkward little girl into
a kept secret,
a memory from childhood like a flicker of white light
i wonder if i could wear
you look so good
in black & white
on my page
oh yes ,
touch me there
a flick of the tongue
a slow, soft growl
your name like a syllable
in a language too bright for speech
stuck in my throat
at night i follow your shadow
beneath my sheets
making love to memories
but i like you best
tumbled onto this page
a tangle of black
that began brilliant, white & unwritten.
struggling under the weight of these
i just want to outrace my heart
merge into some brilliant light woven
through summer leaves
or trickle like the blazing drops of rain
tossed from an awning
in a sudden summer storm
to live entirely inside these moments
and love the lonely wet aspect of scattered
outdoor coffee shop chairs in the grey weather
or the cascade of petalled seeds
on the edge of a familiar forest under the sun when
the grass is on the verge of speaking my name
as though they were the only reason i ever existed
as though they were every poem and every person and every aspiration
for which i never allowed myself
i never thought i would be good enough
here, alone, with what i've been given & what i haven't been given
and perhaps i never will.
my horizon is a long grey line of silence stretched from one solitary moment to another.
my wings, if they ever existed, only a scattered flicker of shadow and sparkle...
a life of flight, of brilliant lights shaded by anguish, of tears
and i love only the things i know will never last.
a slow white swirl
to the gutter
i love such small
for a moment
caught in my throat,
days later she wilts
into the sidewalk
where my steps pass
over her brown
oh, i know you love me
falling as i do
before your face
for a moment
in the spring.