Friday, January 26, 2007

Song of Breath

Blue, as wintry women swimming invisible

one ghostly curtain and a herd of thunder

degrees cooler than a nail in September


quince backward into the light

the behavior of teeth is balsamic glittering

sprouts wings

the future waits unexpected, your eyes are

starlings kisses

anthologize for the sake of bells, among bees

tansy carrot, the absolute formula for

delirium gives a distant lust

at the end of a dark pier

not of stone, our tongues are on

form your hands into afternoons

gulp the liquid waiting

there and hear

me barely


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