Tuesday, March 26, 2013

one night in september in a dark room

one night in september in a dark room

your beard moves in a shush.

your eyes are everything,
we have to begin with this.
the bramble scratch of your thicket
fingers across my breast. divinity.
for this i do everything, the staying
when hating is hard like a bullet,
like a blood clot, a dagger, a silver sword-
a pen that signs goodbye.
bright eyes, glow from the bed like a fox
in our den. the room is violins
and like the teenagers we were
we hear them at the same time and they keen
of still here. still body to body.
place this wafer in your mouth
still your eyes the bright place.
your breath on my mouth
the light like a slip through the shades
the cars outside alone
a motor hurls through space.
a bright star in the camping sky
the owl call from bent branch
when the suburban streets penetrated
my pussy harder than you could wash away
your eyes bring the curious cry of thing in the wood.
you left a bruise inside my thigh
i love you, i love you, i love you.
old porches, mississippi houses underwater,
pieces of fossil no one buys
imprinted fish into rock.
your heart a canyon full of the wild world.
a list of things so mundane they'd make you cry.
a list of things so impossibly wonderous they'd understand why
i love you, i love you, i love you.

maggie may ethridge

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