Some people are so fiery a sky
No thunder rules their ground—
no ablazed suns

Some people run to other people;
they take less or more of their lands
—like all they have or
A little more still
to the furious seas where no god lurks.

Some still, are glass
or breaking bits of it
They love a sky, with lightening
ploughed.

Some nights are restless, oozing words
Some,
So vacant a fall—
Some then, somewhere within.

No thunder, no people, linger on this coast.
No gods; none built;
no suns bow—
Still, the noisy silence reels
Slow and sudden its dive,
as we, in talons, wilt
And still we, in skies, slither.

Light and little;
mistaken,
so easily, dead—

In you I left a little kiss
A speck on lip of lip.
Like a leaf may
On a leaf spring-coated
Before it slides off and off
And into the brown below.
Like a star may,
On the window of a house
Cold in houses cold.

I lingered by the shores of you
Dried, a bone,
Memorising the hues of
A sweet, sweet marrow—
In sun it glittered, in moon sang—
In you, in you, you.

This restless room—
And ants devour around
With their fast steps and abdomens angry
And a scene of us
Through deep, hardened dirt, I dig out:
You held a garland, of foliage weaved,
I smiled a kingdom
All alive and gold.

And the young leaf will forget
Of the rusty feather
That stumbled past it,
One young dawn—
And the house
In houses lone,
Will sublime
In the day’s pretty love, but

In the blue, a bottled letter—
Too small a gift
For an illiterate sea, but
Hold it it does still,
In its secretive embrace.

So, when you born
To an arid tree—
And in blood of stars I wade
As down descends
The sky we built,
Do not cut open the insects
In your frenzied search for me—
All the kingdoms
Could I smile
In you I left with their riches and green.

Dried, a bone, I
Remember the hues
Of a sweet, sweet fruit—
In blooms it blooms, in stars
On frosted windows
In you, in me, you.
So, when I sway
In this lovely quiet,

You sway too
In the dawn.
And born you
Then born you
And reborn on a spring—
In you lives a little kiss
And wilt you,
It wilts.

There, she lies on the altar
Almost held the sun she—
almost in her hands
Opened up, a rose-bud chaste
petal by petal by blood, with
a sting, so sweet and sweet, as
sunset reborn a bee; she was
gold and silver and black at once.

Almost held the sun she—
and no wax wings used
Oh, Icarus, love you did a wild sky,
— yourself a light-licked doom  
as your father cried,
Your father cried for you.
A veil as simple sour starlight she wore
as wings of wasps as beetles she giggled

Icarus, flew that you
—and with tongue-tied elation too
Icarus,
she rambled on for hours long.
A letter she held in spring kissed hands
—I will wed you to the sun, her father had sworn.
The sun—and a sun he was,
child of the sea, some sword in honey
dipped; now her awaiting.
And blushed she did herself a dawn

The altar, on the altar.
Almost held the sun she—
Swallowed a mayhem for the father's sin.
Icarus, tell me of the plummet.
Tell me of the greens you saw,
of blues, of whites, of the whirling world—
Men go around around her
their soles all ready
to crush lost skulls an empty moor.

Twirling,
the dust, like may have her hair
before the wedding day
Strands and strands, gently styled—

Spears, swords, rubbed to mirrors,
to lakes lifeless
Armors and ships laden with life, with
sails, the fluttering doves;
As the winds dance once more—
as harbors vacated, as waves torn apart for the horde, as move they on— on too the sun— as
She still lies.

Icarus, Icarus, was it the ocean
that cupped its palms, or did the soil cave in
as down into dark's slick throat you slid?
Surely, was soft, the sea's well-loved mouth,
Surely soft or true

She lies on the altar
a trinket glossy on a hoof, a ****** in the bell,
how does one say—
the valley of lilies, she grew it inside.
Spilled out on the stones, they are fed
to the flies.
Almost held the sun she—
Icarus, must you know

You did not sleep a wretched silence
within the womb of war.
No crescent blades you drank down a leaking throat—
She lies on the altar, vanquished for moon
— for metal upon bone
for blood, for blood, for blood.

A father’s green promise—
Seasoned to rust before the king
Icarus, on the altar she lies—
a ripened land far, far away lures her king
to another rosy worship.
Icarus, Icarus,
on the altar

I never meant to fall

but sunrise greased your chassis.
The crest and fall of your jaw—

the blade and bend of it,
mudslide contouring of it—

dropped me ribless at your feet.

O promising land, crisp field  
of flesh, whose fireflies

steered my eyes in the darkness—
your land, where my eyes had strayed—

scaled over eolian caves, the slick
basins of your clavicle, onto
the hexa hillocks clustered
like honeycomb chambers
on your abdomen.

I never meant to fall,

but the cursive lines of you,
I might have trod with loose eyes—

even now, there is a voice
drawing them to strike
at the aquifer beneath your waistline,

voice of vined thirst,
of torso and tug—
with them, I struck and drowned

Needles struck in my weakened moon
And out of their gaping pores
Bloom strands of light
All sleek and soft in their intricate might

The world, you tell me
Is a lion flayed alive
And all the stars and suns
And bits and pieces such
The animals it loved

And I on these—
No
Dare I say I too itch with lone
No ‘I’s here
We, on these still clouds
Smothering thick
Walk
Our hands ****** into fleshy planets,
Eyes, drowsy beneath their gentle dusks

And all the screams
That we may have lived
Are drowned before they reach us
In the viscous air
Just, just beneath our feet

The land that birthed us
Worships a flame
That will ****
All that it has ever ruled
And the lion is bared
Its gold discarded to mud
Its pleas withered

Upon a stake it rests
Sun-warmed flesh made love to
By honey and precious vines
Kissed by ants
Crows—
No vultures, not them
They eat the dead only

And life bleeds out of our moon
—our moon
As nights lick it off

This is how I remember you:
A whimper beneath
—just a small ****
That grew where it shouldn’t have
Dried off in a minute
And a whimper above
Just a note, young as a twinkling star
At the edge of an eye

And this is how I remember you:
A face beyond the clouds,
Oblivious in its agony
And a glimpse of silver above
Fading away quietly
A moment
Before it is gone

Drunken, we walk
Lips curved, content
Skins as calm lakes untouched

We have lingered here
For hours or more
Many sunsets we have swum through
No moons, no kings
Begging our hearts for immortality

Slowly, the glimpses go away

Clouds get fatter
And golds and silvers
Collect dust
Somewhere—

I do not know what becomes of us
Only that clouds
Crowd around
Swooning for the petal-soft
Breaths of our light chests

Loving us slow, slow,
Slow
And we forget
Everything but.

Needles struck in my undying moon…