to unsex time
like the slow eruption of lovers
knitted in space
in the morning sun.
with diamonds for blankets
in the grass.
(with the memory of)
the other night.
laying in bed, below the crook of your arm.
in that moment,
between awake and asleep
i cast practical mysticism aside.
believing completely i've looked upon you
in the moonlight
since learning to see.
the river that loses its name when it joins the sea-
the kiss that is the doorway resting upon the threshold of truth;
opening to loves parlor and uncomfortable chairs.
soil in my eyes
watering transplants with tears.
thinning seedlings is playing god.
jostle jostle with a spoon
the sun on our backs and the moon on our faces.
i refuse to hold your hand as we sew
amidst the fierce flames of spring.
when we lept like beasts
possessing the powers of a seas tempest
wearing a disguise of prettiness in the afternoon.
*seasons change before the calender exposes a new month*
is how long i have not loved you.
is the preserves sealed, unspoken upon the shelf.
the art of physical cartography
to the fingers learning the topography of a body
is a terrain altering
a f t e r s h o c k.
this is a moment
this moment has edges.
unlike the sound of a pause
falling into the space of an exhaling cushion
and the impossible dream;
daring to sleep among the waves.
in the misty night, as the river rises i sit within a toes length of the tide.
my lips-the sweet of a fig.
tongue-the rancour of fernet.
and her toying juxtaposition
that holds hands with self imposed examinations
as autumn falls upon the horizon.