Sunday, November 25, 2007

Likely Liable

Daylight cracks its brittle seam snapping apart
a wish bone night. Venus has mounted Jupiter

already headed for the barn; water simmers
in a cracked kettle, just enough for two.

And you, dark man, curled like a leather belt
in the back of a dresser drawer,

unfurl; I’m curled too, like paperback
pages in August; we’ll meld mauve dreams

and first light. I study you
like a self portrait, you hover

pretending to understand the chaos of shoes
about the room, they lay like punctuations,

a tactile Morse Code. I study these dots and dashes,
you haunt my sleepy head; we crawl under apostrophes

behind question marks. Your gesticulations play
havoc with runway lights as I struggle to lower landing gear.

Our best intentions for enhancing this entry,
have arrived confused. Even so I’m grateful for
awkward aubades, dark coffee and you inside my skin.

1 comment:

blue aisling said...

This poem is so beautiful - the landing metaphor and signaling... I love it!