i cannot wake the lateness
the parted anticipations of your sleeping legs
i read sonnets
celebrating the greatness of a love
great time justified and redeemed by love
time i once
lost to the harshness of thought
tear away at the corpse
break illusions and romance
absent rivers
crash through the walls of your poetry's absent house
meter and rhyme and cohesion
tattered and torn
lines going nowhere
but to the love who gathers all to herself
the earth and the flowers and the fragrances of wonderment
against you
thought emits signs
in another sphere
close to the unthought
rises the pearl
which buds
and the loved one suffers
the badness of my company
institutional pariah
sunk in a song of perpetual becoming
oh yes i do
i love your stamen breasts
your pollen your orange fragrance
your bud your clusters your saline promise
you overwhelm the poem
with a common metaphor
because the sun still shines
the sea changes colour every hour
the sunset deceives every mortal minute
and i love you as a second skin of perspiration
i love you as the shadow of my own feminine absence
it was hot that summer in Salento
the figs were sweet purple and golden with drops of sugar lime
we poured primitive wines over each other
sipped with black lips under alternative suns
there were no invitations
only the pull of the tide
scarves of spume draped around our kissing necks
love was a moment
ripped from a fragment of blue cloth
shreds of erect tongue
on the surly bud of metaphor
come with me girl
deeper
three miles down
past the bluesman and the novelist
on a journey out of time
burning fiercer than romance
if you could only follow me
if you could only bend with me toward this black sun
kiss me as thoughts rise
penciled on your mauve softness
yes something would be won
something great will come
from eternity's horizon
drops of silver
from vanquished sobs of a mutilated sun
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