Friday, October 21, 2016

of gloamings lean

Standing in the doorway
there
between the
kitchen and dining
room
looking at your
back
diligently washing whatever you were washing
Leaning in the
doorway
crossing arms as if suddenly
possessed by Virginia Woolf
leaning golden nectar dripping
"There's something inside the bone...the marrow
...and that's what you gotta get at."
dispassionate
intent upon discovery
the reason he
is not
you
No desire to connect his molecules
one
to
another
infinite
tender aching
flesh beneath fingers trembling with
need
(fuck need
and all its friends)
His back is not your back
and no amount of gin will change that
No desire to press against his back
slipping hands down
          down
down
to embrace
release
welcome home
anything
of earth and sea
no compass north pulling
             pulling
me to him
he is not you
his back not as regal
sanguine Apolo
his
eyes not seeing
me standing here
standing
regarding him
tolerating this quiet house
my invisibility
gin and juice
odds a thousand to one, two, unbuckle the moon
my head upon your chest once more
home to
earth to
sea...
pulling
leaning into
the doorway



No comments:

Post a Comment