the doctor
crawling your space
in midocean
turning princesses
into fingernails
count how many fingers
count again
with wisdom
with thirteen toes my dear
slowly move your mouth with tears
remind yourself what its like to live in a bottle
discovering youth
discovering eyelids
its flutter
its coming to pass
its mercy its christ
well come touch me
come touch a copy of you
as its written
trace the glass
the numbered days
like a cat
bite through this through all
fall in love with time
kilometers noting the crevices
separating our space
needy is me my dear
jubilantly shaking bed rails
where something wonderful touched
secretly the most serious love ever felt
this momentous beautiful silence
is dedicated to you
this path of stones aligning bedrooms
where a garden now sits instead of hardwoods
flooring filled with lilies
feeling the immensity of this heat
their petals feet flap us fancy
in full fragrance we savor
the sting the sacred sting involving our hands
surely we’ve met in midair
sometime ago
your stubborn neck disregarded my smile
apologetically you stirred these mediums
the melancholic instruments attached to my head
on a solid oaken table we wrote
the aloofness of a spell
critiquing the crafty shapes
with your index finger you pointed at me
and shivered
i waited
and thickened your space very slowly
my voice reached your core
i knew then how bitter your loneliness was
tempting these souls to write
and with your little murmur
a flame in my chest i saw
i slowly began to weep
you stroke my head listening to me pray
softening my thoughts
the names that inhabit my soles
the steady pure familiar calm
the wind the golden faces inside this life of mine
designed for staying here
urging trumpets to melodically banner my heart tonight . . .
love for me is
particles wandering about the moon
craziness chasing my veins
round
round
punctually beating hearts
patiently
patiently
as mine quietly nods
like someone trying not to laugh
dimples
dimples
lines molding my mouth
it lives in everything
sacredly and timidly touching
touching
touching
skilfully moving my soul
my personal blood
and with this blood
i tell the world about us
our thousand tailors desperately sewing at our feet
for this love surely fabrics
exclaiming in the sweetest of ripeness evermore
LOVE . .
for hours i stand here
welcoming the enormous ceremonies
they travel slowly towards me
with mouthfuls of stones i meditate
their language softly lamps my eyes
i ask for relief
for the cloud-cloths to replace my skin
without shyness my body curls
ivies now take over my legs
i have found myself
leaning on hillsides rewriting this prayer
where God stumbles upon me shouting instructions
for I have visited this world too many times
breathing the barbed-wire swamps
where afternoons fear to dusk
rising out of rough weeds i write now
with energy i write now
i write with the explicable faith made of grass
