"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