what could be more ridiculous than
this moment?the
sunmoon bloodfingers and
fucklovely
spate of effulgent starlight; Darling that
your lips suddenly
seem to do? (my hands
the curling
of a cute cut
in clear water
a slendering
band of crimson
tracing the arcuate heap
of life's reeling–
caving to fill
in blistering flens
of brilliant
dying
instants–
,"I love you." the sand
a beach occasionally
the back seat of an old
car the sleep fitfully
morning of rising
too early into your mouth
a flower gleams by
broken of silence
sunburnt and smelling
of aloe rubs
with the cool rub of
coiled muscles , . ; (my Dear
w
e will die)
the night will
trun upon a blade
of light; our
skin will bunch
into delicate
rills of dry
coils and
dust become. . . .
BUT,
dear i will hold (you) that impossible violence of the first quiet moment of
your lips that i held slightly in my own i will hold it in my heart that
unbroken stem of your frail laughter of supple vibrance made my dear i will recall the hurt wildness of your eyes and bruise of your soft voice
my dear i will hold in my tiny hands the vast pulpit of your hairsong
and bloodpoem my dear i will forget not the dull and moments each
i will remember the early mornings and lashed travail of each lashing
voice.
(My Dear I Will Hold You.
I Will Carry You.
INTO THAT NEAT DARKNESS
. i will cup the serene mystery
of every stupid minute of our
body and dear
i
w
i
l
l
.