Friday, April 18, 2014

Descent

Adam & Eve, Gustav Klimt


We sit on the green banks of the swelling river.

Every morninglike this onea random
tree branch, its leaves kissed by the wind,
unspools its longing, shattering the sun
into asymmetric filaments of gold.

No one is here to see this;
it is ours alone.

What was it we used to say about broken light?

That it reveals itself as
orbs in flight, willowing
through the separating skies.

I recall our stunted conversation, our timid words,
emerging from the dance of breath and tongue with teeth.

I remember, too, your distant laughter, peeled from
your throat by the white heat of late July.

Have we known one another too long?

Oh, there is no escaping
this fugue of imagination!

You appear in me, and speak to me in tongues
once confined without pardon.

And what can I do butas if for
the very first timeentrench myself
within the impermanence of you?

* * * * * * * * *

NOTE: My first poetry chapbook, From Darkness, Beatitudesis available for pre-order from Finishing Line Press until April 25, 2014.

2 comments:

  1. the impermanence of you?
    Is there such a thing?
    As I mention you, you are.
    And I with you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Beautiful Adriana, we are all impermanent in so many ways, aren't we? After all, nothing in this life is permanent, if you think about it... not even us. Kisses to you!

      Delete

Your thoughts are deeply appreciated.