love with a past |
A vine, through a fence Twists in the light of a distant sun. You wrapped my hair around a finger, once There's a way I align my soul, A way I pose the question To dilute the meaning. Because I don't really want to know. You painted me in slow strokes It took too long. And I felt pinned, I ran, I fell, I ripped my skin On broken shells and hollow smiles And suspicious offers of tomorrow-days. I fought my way through a thicket of flies, Through a cloud of parasites, of thorns And they consumed me, tasted me, drank me and it was all wrong. I swam through the liquid of second guesses I was crushed under the pressure of a thousand grasping hands: I died. I can't guess the valleys you've seen-- You traveled, too But after and underneath The double images, the imprints, The afterimages that float As flotsam on your retinas I'm still there. You see the world through all you've seen and I am still the fading afternoon, I am chlorine. A tanned body Half-wrapped in a white towel. I am chocolate birthday cake, leaves In the pond That thought on the back of your mind. And when I feel you, When you dip into the familiar Space between you and me, You walk the bridge And melt it in the warmth of your breath. You traced my scars, walked down them slowly, Deliberately. You foraged for a simpler state. You broke my sight, And I, though blind, felt life restored. But my taste, though sweet, is poison. |