Revised Bells

That clearing ring of the bell

And the water rush of formula lapping at my ankles
Glow into nights in the desert and the snow brushing across cheeks
fall into tornados swirls of leaves and hair and those silent accusatory eyes

Pulling back to homes and bourbon and the inevitable pity of sainted mountains

Free in then Veldt; run leaping into crossed arms and nobility and her fingers in my scalp
Free in the Veldt; pouring down the whitewashed mountains of her soul and breasts and accusatory eyes

And run laughing into each other while universes echo and lap at our ankles

Spring waters rushing up through the cloud cover and drowning out the moon
Spring waters ringing clear to the horizon
Spring waters pushing past the reed bed
Spring waters carrying us (for we all were made for the sea)
Spring waters running cool down our bodies
Spring waters pushing the rusted bell to sea