"God, there is so much of everything!"
your voice is a stained glass window in the soundlessness of night
the mystery of the rose is in your fingers
and when you touch them to your face,
it seems to crumple and uncrumple,
a map in wan lamp-light.
our teeth gnash thick stalks
with spoonfuls of peanut butter
enormous mother girl in a vision
i give you an egg to hold
you trace the radius with your elegant fingernails and never leave a scratch.
...everything is different now.
blond as pears, you sink to the floor.
we are primordial.
your shoulders are flat
and yellow as a midwestern sky
smiles of wheat and innocence
oh, you believe in everything.
please
don't love me on my behalf
you are full of sorrow like a childhood bedroom.
there is no room for me in your ribcage of butterflies.
someday you will live in Boston with a tulip garden
and three Swedish daughters.
still
i reach for the far star
in the constellation of your body.
the fantastic architecture of dreams shelters us
from the absent storm.
Comments
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How Very Nice
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someday you will live in Boston with a tulip garden
and three Swedish daughters
that's the best part for me.
and the end, of course, though I would prefer "the fantastic architecture of dream" rather than dreams, which is overly sibilant next to "shelters" and the rest. I don't really understand the ending. Well, of course not, but what I mean is that I can't wrap my mind around 'absent storm'.
The far star in your corporeal constellation bit is rather filthy. How dare you?
As a whole, I find this a bit weaker than most of your plumes (POPCORN!). It's prosaic in parts, difficult, and filled with vanilla verbs of being, but the images you sprinkle in are delicious as ever and there are some really good sounds (map in wan lamplight).
Smiles of wheat and innocence. blond as pears. These bits are transcendant.
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The first sentence contains seven words with the weight of six days creativity and the rest on the seventh...God, there is so much of everything! ...
...the voice akin to stained glass windows is akin to a cosmos of colours for the soul to feel...
....i give you an egg to hold and you never leave a scratch...
...this far star shines a light on the Lord without the negativity of man...
...whatever mistakes we may make He allows us rebirth and the girth of all that is global and more...
...full of sorrow like a childhood bedroom...
...yes...before we grew there were other tears to be learned from and from that room we grew into an orbital view...
...maybe the tulip garden is a two-lip garden mouthing only love and light...
just beyond the frequency of human perception...
Kudos
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