-Civilizations’ have wept; if only to have gazed

Within you supple amber eyes,

To watch as words separate from thoughts,

Would we become voluptuous.

 -And in the vigil of a summer night I fell asleep within you

Upon the auburn scented casket of your song and I wept;

Not a lovelier fork could have lifted my tongue

As you chewed the fat off my feet.

-As we swallowed each other’s tongues,

With tongues we sang of breath, glorious breath,

Drowned in the nape of your neck,

With my hands wrapped atop your amber locks,

I held your hand within mine and I bit your lip,

And smudged your nose palpitating in silence

As words turned to water and you said,

‘Après moi, le déluge…’

-If only to have awoken next to you, fresh as a vase of lilacs,

Would I roll over, with arms I would wrap you in a sweet embrace,

Feeling the warmth of your breath against my own,

The beat of your chest in the axilla of my arm;

To taste your morning tongue would be bliss as we wither in silent discourse.

-Obsequious beneath the moon I’ll sing a song

Of Evelyn sitting in a room.  As the smoke from the inn lifts

At the foot of the hill, such dreadful men compose.

 -A seraph she sings amidst the mizzle

As though a leaf against the backdrop of fall,

Ebbs at a distance beneath a light which is not a light at all. 

She approaches as a gale to the sound of such pettifog. 

I am struck with a sudden pensiveness, pallor;

Like chalk dust seated next to a stick of chalk I am docile,

As a stranger he asks, ‘But one more?’

-How I yearn for the skin of dawn as a vase of roses to not be alone.

-G.