When You Bit... Outtakes ('07/'08)
You’re like an obsessive
astronaut: coveting
space,
empty vacuums, stretching
outwards around you, deep
as wolf-hour dreams, dark
as bottoms of rocky
peaks.
I live, breathe, in your
sleep.
My need: toothed like a
shark.
There is no reconciling this.
Uneasy space is rank to
kiss.
I’m lowly wise, a slug,
stuck
to woody surfaces, rocky
bottoms, yours. What
luck:
between your legs is bold
and stark.
Fins
Your scales are
wave-hewn.
You are soporific as a
siren.
Around you limbs are
strewn.
It’s fin to tail chess.
Pawns
move in an undulant
fashion.
I have nothing to trade
you
but a marching soldier’s
gun
I know little of. I know
what
to do with him, loosely,
but
really this air has me
kite-high,
ready to blow, high to
black sky.
Then, on the shore of
your
wide world I kneel before
you,
hopped up on sedated
nerves.
I'm Eternity's pilgrim, I'm
hot enough to broil
flesh, I
am made one with Nature,
yours, every time you
flip
over for me. It’s cynical
to
speak in these terms, but
I’m captain of a wet
ship—
you’re sub someone, slut.
It’s a big identity mess.
It’s
me angling to parse an
angle
not yet gelled, where
there
is “we”, & we’re
newfangled.
It’s a bunch of bullshit.
I’m floss on thorns,
tangles.
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