She's awake
He breathes in her breaths
Deep and moving like ocean tide under moonbeam gaze
and he glides finger across hip bone
waiting for touch to break fragile precious crate
Turned this way up please.
His fingers reach to cover her hands
So small they wrap around his pinky
but he watches as they span Grand Canyon in hummingbird time
She cups Colorado River in life lines
And he strokes faded blue veins picking up
Dry sand heated from NEvada sun.
Skulls are not evident here
Only coyotes and Hopi babies tumble out of her lips
the night life consumes her eye sight
For she's unable to see him because
his touch that glides seems wrong like
Snowstorms in summer he freezes inside her
She's dying to leave him behind
Dust stagnant in air like her love for him
She choes as she lives but
continues to breathe because he was her air.
And he wonders what it's like to slip into her rubbed down shoes
that trip across linloleum and grass alike
his thoughts stream through his eyes
jet out like fountains in summer
he wonders if she shines like this when nobody's looking.
Perhaps she's just street lamp like and
turns on only at set times at set dates
Or maybe she's firefly turned inside out
and innate fire is taking its toll, letting everyone know
that she's here making time slow.
And he knows that he jars her
fits uneven like jagged mountain ranges into the sky
and so he flees
pretends he's too busy to see her
But really too scared to find broken pieces in her eyes
Reflection of him, he ruptures inside every time he breathes in.
It's a lazy afternoon
and fragile precious crate turned downwards as pleased
glides hip bone across finger
moves like moonbeams across ocean waves
and breathes deep to let him know she's awake.
And they both try to live in this time when
They're both caught up in lives past
when they were both better at being together.
back to poems
back to my finger tips