(Source: stonesandglasshouses)
“Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; And every little absence is an age.”
John Dryden
(Source: Flickr / xkelx, via atomos)
Tango (brief.)
She purses her lips, leg extended-
(En cloche, en cloche)
Morning mantis stretch: icy jaws.
It is whipped round his waist
Like a tongue. The strongest muscle,
Unjoined and
unpredicatable.
She is clutched tight in his vice.
Eyes are wet, warm, rabbits in burrows.
His are distant and furrowed.
She bends back, cambré, his own words,
It is communication. It is
“Request”.
His hand rests, reticent, perfunctory.
She is spun out like thread. Wound in,
Looser, drawn in, knotted;
They knot their hands and hips.
Swing out and in and
Round and round. Whirlybirds. Seeds of
Feeling, tired.
So they flit, keep fit,
Fervent till the last fouetté.
It ends en face. Bared to the bone,
He leaves first. She follows.
Her head is bowed.
to feel your hands, like pincers
clutched neatly round
my peony neck,
would be lovely.
i will be moonish,
and breathe my breaths in blinks-
all flirtatious with
burning cheeks.
i will be an orchid.
exotic, purple. choking
like an animal.
choking with marbles in my mouth.
I broke my own heart.
Brutal, beat it against a wall and cried
When it bled on my quilt.
Baby knees, pick it up
Put it under water and we’ll
Wash it out
Together.
Fat plums of blood like slugs,
And oil on the floor.
Tick tick tick
You drip down, past fingers;
Sugar in the bath, granulated.
Tickle away from me.
Sad Horror.
I can’t zip this zip up.
“Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.”
Ovid
love poem.
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
