Something shattered
Something shattered, really sudden-like
Into a million little pieces.
That farce of sleepy relaxation fades
Into a deep and aching sadness;
It’s that soft pain in the back of your throat
When you were a little girl, sheared by the pavement,
Fat, hot tears pouring down to your quivering chin,
Pensive, then temerous, carving fierce channels over
The swell of your cheeks.
In one hand, I hold everything
Most dear; that glance over the brackish waters
Pounding swathes of rock carved jagged into
Crystalline blocks like petrified wood.
To the mustaches of yellow algae clinging
Desperately to their groaning lips,
Tucked into the crevices, the seams -
The only things holding us together as we hold each other
over the water,
Toes resisting, so lightly, ever lightly, the indelible call
Of Poseidon’s roar.
In those broken moments;
A shard of reality penetrates the soft marrow
Of my soul, bared pink and raw I am
Your baby again, bruised by the taste of
Your plum-sweet lips, your playful hand.
Broad shoulders squared beside me
On a mattress so small it
Begs me against you;
Nestled into that union of shoulder and chest, of give and muscle
that
Smells rich and clean, like lust and comfort.
How many times have I
Let this scent into my bed?
Let that sharp valley of muscle and bone
Beneath my head?
When will those eyes linger, not dart,
From my aching chest to
Another open heart?
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home