1. |
Ghost
09:22
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"A person is a person through other persons."
--Desmond Tutu
I miss your voice. I miss
your sex. Your dull cheeks
your morning breath. You’d lick
my skin you’d bruise it, too.
You were lucid, then,
when I loved you.
What a gift, to be stolen
from: this world of children, graves,
and love. And this dumb rapture
we can’t share: your soul
drops the coat it wears.
If I could touch your ghost,
and hug its skin--a touch
less cold than absence, than wind.
I miss your hands and daily
notes--the brief
logic that love unfolds.
How this blessed curse is ordinary,
how my mind holds
what this world can’t
carry.
I miss your blood, I miss
your ghost: your cold shadow
teasing my home.
But if I’m buried here
next to you, I could blossom,
I could break through.
*
Every day I lose your ghost.
I say its name, I feel it home.
It dances down my mind’s hallways.
Though I touch it, it will not
stay.
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2. |
You
05:37
|
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"I think heaven is perfect stasis
poised over the realms of desire..."
--Mark Doty
You wait so long
For that drenching kiss
To freely tap and slip.
And your knees--all bruised--
Give such quiet quakes
As your body faintly prays.
So you wait so long
For tiny, liquid hymns
To fall through what is
You.
Because there's hell
In your sighs. Little windows
Of all your desires.
But just like you, the land here
Sings--the way the heat pushes it
to motion, to gently
scream.
You wait so long
For what never comes:
Rain that dances selflessly
On your soul's scorched rungs
(For You).
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