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.


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

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