#kinghts

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Every time you curl away

And every time I speak

The nightmare of you

                               Away and unspeaking

                               Sucks reality into the dream

                               Bearing me upon the feral chargers

                               You deify and cherish,

                To mist-bound and humid places

               Where the bare ankles of breakfast

               And the bare-back breaker of day

               Dwell in surfeits of violent intensity,

               Penciling the whipping limbs of your dance,

               And words encumber, and I dare not interfere.

                                Here the expression of I

                                                                               / finger at flesh

                                        the impression of I

                                                                               / blood to invest

                                Are mane and sword together,

                               Borne in our waterfall communion

                               Defeated in skirmishing emotion

                               Drizzled in the sweat glazing your dance:

 Measured drops chill in the dry storage

Of the ambiguous mind and reflexive body,

Emblems for the repression of self-taught

And honed dispassion, a pike’s-head edge

Planted abreast the rushing charger.

 A nightmare when you curl away,

Every time I speak too clearly,