Wednesday, July 3, 2013

beeswax . . paper smooth night











sitting here
minding my beeswax
wax
late
candles
waiting for a storm
minding space
spaced and weary
hollowness ringing buzzing beating in my ears
bones heavy with the nights gravity
thumb rubbing the borders of this book
repetitive finger-chanting
leather smooth & limitless
repetitive
minding the hollow
listening to the still
when suddenly the leather
becomes
you
there is that thread, that bridge of sureness & I can not escape the tumble
my hand along your bended leg
hard
mine
can't stop this electric pantomime and as my eyes close against the unexpected wet missing
of feeling you
along the trapezius line
across the distant & pulsing quadrants
across shoulders
slowly finding my way
i have become lost here before--in the tracing of fibers & skin
i will not be lost will not be lost will not be lost
leather leads to paper ripe & richly worded
smooth
falling .
minding
finding
your neck
scars that sing to me of a city in snow, brisk & deep
sparks & tingles of the ever
moonlight turning everything cashmere blue
it's cold
but i will keep you warm
minding
trailing the chant
down your arm across muscles
tendons--crystal bones
skin that melts me thru to crimson creeks
there--a birth-mark that resembles a newly discovered star or
maybe
a super nova
there
minding
I can feel you
hands grasp hold pinch & stroke
release
and it is
now
minding
and i will never be hollow