#subtlebustle

The thing inside wants to be apprehended, like a crook who sets himself up, hands red, nails dirty, grin twisting, eyes rolling;

but the whole plan was secret, and the cops didn’t show until the spots were cocked and aimed, the curtains lifted.

There’s no overture for this act, and the program was dissolved inside the amniotic sac and floats inside the veins;

but blood is thicker through rose-coloured glasses, and even so, water was always thinner.

I’ve been here for weeks, now: no wonder, no words, just no, no, no, and dust, and tiny worlds in grains I can’t apprehend, my eyes opaque, my ears stuffed, my nose crusted, my mouth swollen, my hands cracked.

The sun lashes me with my own expectations, and dreams, and hopes, while the quiet, cool palms have withdrawn behind the infinite line of invisibility, and the bright, giggling waters have fled to couple with their lover the sky.

There’s no difference, sitting or lying, so today one, tomorrow another, yet I grasp at the quivering straw of wandering myself out of this, my poet’s desert.

Aphrodite touched my hand, and now what?

dry and swollen, my tongue flails like a gasping fish and my lips, pale and puffy, wriggle like larvae in the beggar breath between my ears.

for I.

All along, the Universe knew the combination: a million million million digits to unlock the light in my eyes with the light in yours.

Two coconut cookies, twenty minutes to midnight, one thought wanders in: no one will know — not even you — if I sleep without brushing my teeth.

An angel took me by the eyes but held on only for an hour;

like the devil, you've got my soul tucked behind your ear.

I spend my day anticipating all the things I'm going to say to you.

Then you open your mouth and each syllable washes them all away.

I came to you, bare, alone, hungry for the sun and moon; and you wrapped me in the galaxy’s deep folds, hung bright planets around to keep me company, and filled my belly with thick, hot stars.