I think i too have known
autumn too long
The pale moon,
dimpled and lonely
in the widening
sky
familiar as the dying
leaves ;
this year
autumn will fall
into winter
(and i to you)
Perched in your throat,
it is like a prayer;
an exhalation
against your palms,
soft as a secret
in the womb.
How weightless we are
under the tender moon
in this enchanted twilight.
Budding teeth click
shut; waken with me,
a vision of stars
upon your teeth,
& thread your
dreams along the
backbones of children.
Be still, sleep-
er, for the pregnant moon
still
swells
(in wonder.)
A confession:
ma, there are seahorses dancing in the library
Autumn has come to my hometown.
Today; cool, clear and sunny--
April, a stuttering fool.
3am, and kings slumber;
Sunday falls heavy,
eyes wet with gasoline.
We drip into October
with the silence of spiders
heavy in our chests,
our hearts curling in
on themselves like
leaves in autumn.
Lungs unfurl into the
stillness;
there is a breath, a whisper--
This dying wind whistles
through empty throats,
as if to murmur a warning,
perhaps, that we threaten
to become
earthquakes
along our hipbones.
Morning
splits
open, like orange-flesh
cradled
in a palm.
I tuck consonants between my
lips/
draw moon-craters in my eyes; I make wishes
upon stars
that are too far away to realise and hope
that somehow things will
change. Yet
the sun is still a mere hole
in the
sky.
I'm waiting for you on grey-slate rooftops
with the August sun between my teeth,
resisting the impulse to
bite down
(upon skin). Icarus
lies at my feet, bent
around broken feathers
and a skeleton, as I pick
apart our earth-
quakes with my fingertips.
Always,
marrow eyes and hollow
bones
-whisper-
it's not that far to fall.