Coffins without Corpses

the dreams I used to have
before we met
becoming quickly dormant
useless, bodies without souls:

of dusky blue water
aquatic cartography of veins
swerving and sustaining,
light and liquid pulse
of rivers and in tributaries
I dreamed of their power, its pulchritude
until I tasted your smile;

of the urgent yellow licking
heat invading wood
fire latching fingers around the night
crackling, crinkling,
hideous and alluring, smoking to death
violent, endlessly vengeful,
lunatic with desire.
I dreamed lustily of its beauty,
feared its bredth,
but neither peered your eyes.

of the light purple music I'd admired
distantly from others,
from happiness;
that you wore like a jewel at your throat
fragrant and lilac, lilting and lyric
darkening that night - deep burgundy
as if dyed with your blood,
falling from light into dark
as you did
now of beautiful things I am merely dreaming

of