I am eyewitness of charm, a skinwitness of wilderness, a heartwitness for pain. I wonder if you tear your bemused silences or am I stripping you of stillness. sometimes I am silent as a plastic plant, scattered like the vowels of a foreign language or whole as an apple. only the rustle of my hands is enchanted. you are  an impossible congruence  for a witness of the progression of tears.
You are searching for something, the hush of blood in the intimicy of the ear, an oceanic tempo, a steamy vertigo.  time is reaping my breath with some fascination. there is this feeling, a filling of one's body with  the magnitude of the other. this absorbtion.
I follow the rupture lines as much as I can. there is no filling from the outside, they wait to be inhabited by one's blood. I would offer my skin flambe, the memory of your skin feels like a cataclism of fingerprints

the rawness of things suspended in the air
an invisible hand pushes the hours through us into the compost and delight of memory
I don't have words for tomorrow, only your name today and warm tears.  I was born into a dead language so
I have this detector for the silence of windows, it sneaks in my lungs
pain is offline, the dark swallows itself
no wonder last night I dreamt a girl in a blue kimono
-you are my hiroshima, I breath like a prehistoric fish-
she was smiling to something only she could see.
love, this prehistoric wonder,
a fragile skin of this weary world

The ground below me whispers
Moist , subtle breath of remnants remain
This chorus , this heartbeat
It lingers amongst strangers
as they celebrate in hush memoirs
Again and again
Drinking from eternities glass
This overflowing canard as voices collide
We all just wait
"Grass is greener"  some people say


Who let the dogs out

has the temperament of high waves,
the character of raging winds
it can read the bones of the sky
it can be as quiet as unused ovens or
as the light over the hills after the storm

a woman's passion invents new remedies
but no desperate religion of salvation
for the curse of being bodies full of time.
it doesn't accuse you of the insolence of being
no need to use blood metaphors in this poem
cause a woman's passion simply moves the air in your blood
so effortlessly that all you might want is run away and
die again and again

"I'm not able to rid myself of my self."  Herve Guibert

days alienated from nights,
from the magnitude of their roots
in the absence of your touch
electric love poems on the tip of your tongue
an electric symetry seems to surface in me today
in the doorway

I surrender to the nascent desire and glance into
the protocol of impulse, the chemistry of freedom inhaled
energetic transference from your skin onto mine
a cave woman deeper than me insists to dress me
in your unknown selves since
I have nothing else to undress, like a wound

I was Black yesterday. Blackity, Black, Black, Black…
On my way to work, with my ***** hair stenciled to my Crown.
I was Breathing like Air was a Birthright
And my shoes slapped the concrete
Like a *****.

Because the Rainbow isn’t Suicide Anymore
I tread where my eagles congregate in perpetual sky-
Above the Ghetto of my familiar rivals...
Soaring in the Raiment
Of a Particular Sun that never casts a Shadow
Where my Brown Eyes kneel.
I see the Light… and unleashed, I strut like a phantom-
Your equal in all things…

However suspect,
When bombs go off
at point blank
range

Invisible to Cabbies.

I knew it wouldn't end in fire;
We burned
Too fast, too enjoyably, to suffocate
In flames.

I found the scab, the source,
Small and round and secret.
Incapable of leaving it to heal, I finger the edges
Nervously until the blood flows
Cold and jealous and foreign and unforgiving and slow.

A tipping point we can't reverse out of,
We're frozen on the event horizon,
Empty like the air in February,
The oxygen burned out from our explosion.

I am only left with regret and this
Sense, clear and dry and freezing, that I've walked
Too far north and lost the sun,
Though clouds still part in the distance and wave
Toward the open spaces
With fingers unfurling in unnatural curls.

I claw back to calm from
Calamity and speak, knowing I have listened
Too deeply to words meant for other ears - words that do not tell
Me what to say in return - I am raw.

I stand at the edge of mercy,
Abrupt in my humanity,
Suddenly losing feeling in my toes.

and invited the moon into the
room – a stranger, she stole
through the night to our chambers,
a bevy of damsels to carry her candles.
She lit up our eyes; she lit up our skin
like our skin was the sky.

a blazing eyed girl,
fueled by her love's ardor,
cool it by a smile!

Winter nights are the cruelest,
sound of incessantly falling ice,
disturbs.It accumulates,
on the foliages above,
slide,
       and fall
             on the earth
                           with a
                                      thud.
   I am sweating tears,
my heart bleeds; a pain-
I can't share with anyone,
as you aren't near.
*My heart develops a hole,
                        I peer inside,
and see you
               sit there perplexed!