Monday, March 16, 2015

Bed conversation

Turn off the lights,please-
I instruct you to leave a space
between us, a riverbank's length
for comfort, for discovery
use enough of the sheets
silk linen or normal cotton to make way for the arms
to drown space for the ears
to hear and let go of the rhythm,
beating, breath that rises and falls
inside, outside

Alright, honey
you turn off the lights, edge then with your squinted eyes
at the new darkness, clumsy to my voice that shows you the way
right, left, top

Easy now
we wade like creatures made for half the water, half the time
and the top half for softening skins
certain that one day this smoldering of silver and iron
will get us closer to heaven- if not possible otherwise

You are ok
Fall into my silence, I tell you
against the drums of envy, of anger, of tiny blocks
we throw like children's legos to pack the floor
tantrums are second nature to hunger, joy and pride
All tucked, arms and legs and chin
we descend onto the darkness, the color of coal

Good night-
we turn our backs,
let's deal with our riverbanks and old rifts
tomorrow.

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