Friday, October 21, 2005

New Edits from the New Book....

Still

I understand the breadth of fossils
being defined by loss. Oxidation of one leaf
to stone. You say it will not be the same with us.

But death is all around
and the worm does not go hungry.
Dressed in his androgynous skin
does he know my need for you?

Somewhere in these sheets we open and fall with memory.
The sky cries with your scent and I wonder
have I swallowed you whole
in an attempt to breathe, set myself free?

Have I multiplied inside my bones, need;
simple need to hold the flesh of you, contours of skin
on flannel sheets, watch a rose open, close.

Sugar water covers a multitude of sins,
leads black ants to their deaths, lures spiders
from their webs.

And if your flowers are dying, if color
has begun to fade, stir in the sweet sickness
watch new life begin.

In the early hours of sky
I become wind, move past curtains; fly the distance
to your bed.

If you turn and find nothing
except the smell of green,
bring your fingers to lips, drink in
my sweet rain.

3 comments:

Artichoke Heart said...

Oh my . . . this is absolutely ravishing. Just gorgeous!

Lyle Daggett said...

A beautiful, beautiful poem. Please, please keep this one. This is the book.

early hours of sky said...

thanks to both of you, yep it is in the book.