•
sun
sculpts
space, re-
combines the room
a shaft as yellow
as the memory of yellow,
a memory of light without context

desire spasms to stars
ecstatic
contractions

to wake to the smell of his skin & not recall
his name,
or my own

slumberous eye
o
you deceive
perceiving horror
in the twisted trees

a wink of wings
peripherally

breaths
between branches
catch

small doubts
in my
sanity

Inhale
—

absconding the body
to think well
or not at all

eyes on mind

white silence

pooling
in the contours
of my consciousness

What is it

to want
to be
so high?

petrichor

after clouds
after language

no need for
words
with you
here
languid

only the
seats
like sundials
speak
the
lateness
of
our
hour

I breathe the length of a slow bow.

The tension of metal,
horse hair,
the friction between

body
between
thighs

One long stroke
passes,

elapses

gasps

night buckles
to the blue hour

tender
virga

bittersweet in-seeing
in
limb-swept sheets

plumed patience

rapt
tonguelessness

*

I try to recall something
that I
knew

it is they who are sighing,
I believe it

the
image

aggrieves

even
(years) later

the blade of your cheek

x

smiles to the wind
enveloping us

later,

the verbena,
shy,

phosphorescent

I think his eyes were open.

reading your words with my body
(they are able to part and open, fold and denude)

If you kiss the idea of me, I’ll still feel it
(sinew and fluid)

broached geographies
(closing is as much as opening)

It gives a pretext for travel,
/ to run
(so the difficult vanishes)
/ ennui
(you’re dividing a limited quantity)
/ to See.