There were little ways, once, when things could sparkle and spread the light
just like I spread your legs
then.
Away I could turn,
and feel your eyes on me,
the breath for breathing in always fresh and free between us,
the staleness now punctuating every sentence, drooling from my lips
and off away somewhere…
nowhere.
The infant
me lying next to the mother
of you in the creeping sun
running away over the edge of the world
like Magellan.
I could chase it,
I would,
I swear I will,
if you would ask it,
and I would tumble over that dark cusp
and off into a six-year terror of death and disease,
just to return,
spinning the Earth under my feet,
pushing it with my hands like paddles,
kicking it back with toes,
sweating bleeding shaking
and collapsing
back into
you.
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 3:48 AM UTC
There were little ways, once, when things could sparkle and spread the light
just like I spread your legs
then.
Away I could turn,
and feel your eyes on me,
the breath for breathing in always fresh and free between us,
the staleness now punctuating every sentence, drooling from my lips
and off away somewhere…
nowhere.
The infant
me lying next to the mother
of you in the creeping sun
running away over the edge of the world
like Magellan.
I could chase it,
I would,
I swear I will,
if you would ask it,
and I would tumble over that dark cusp
and off into a six-year terror of death and disease,
just to return,
spinning the Earth under my feet,
pushing it with my hands like paddles,
kicking it back with toes,
sweating bleeding shaking
and collapsing
back into
you.
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