The wet soil beneath the grass vibrates
with the same unending tension as the walls of my veins.
the Earth, my hypostasis. Shaking
and these soft, strengthless hands
can only do what they can, and pull you close.
Unfortunate, to find a man that
sends birds that whip, and buzz, and sting
laying secrets and carnal whispers in my ears
beating scars where you’ve been;
- I know only one form. A form I have not seen
but feel at that chord from the neck to my jaw, taught
with lips that web my nerves like threads
many have my body, but only you command my thoughts.
Those birds outside my window keep me awake
breathless and waiting – did you miss it?
And in how many words can I say
stop this fever, cold friend, or if I am for the axe
just – swing it.
Lying in jasmine, pale, blue-veined,
Playing in the dark, I don’t take breath
and you ask me yet…
I know you find it hard to believe that human lungs can't breathe
when drowned, when wet.
Arch your back. And feel as if you feel him
half-way across the earth but his cheek presses into you
and he always knows what to say.
Come, my love, feel this earth with me.
Feel the bridle and the shank and the strap around the ankles
- those hands of yours untie knots like God.