“Quiver Of Arrows Of Love”
You excite me to launch with
your dandelion arrows of love-stares in me windy
and fire-licking elixir of
your sweet hands, eluting swells of the feathery plush
latticed conduits for my
blossoming atoms to flow with your violet warmth
Where ocean tails lap over
soul and pasts of my face that never felt so much
Distant closeness and the
faraway touch of the nights of us in your eyes, your smiles
striate like wishes of shooting
stars and convolute like ivy around the sounds of chimes
playing as softly as
tear-rippling echoes and unfurling of roses, from inside
I find you to rest on the
sturdy bough of my finger, my leaves
Decrescendo like crescents
surrounding your face and when you blink
I will shimmer away like a
mirage in your heat and combust
cobalt-electric in the seat
of your flames.
Oh this is quick, so steely
sharp
It is a scalpel, be cautious
when you wield it
It delightfully smites our
polarity
Like flesh; it has confessed
and resigned
To fall away
The way her worldly costume
coyly slides off
Bare shoulders and nape,
flexing softest infinity
And incandescent soul-zephyrs
like rain.
This is a halo; my visions
cast them far
Bubbles into the air, then:
The vanishing burst, phantoms
of completeness or
Driftwood in shifting sand,
tempestuous red
My heart is not designed to
be
Pinned to a pitted black tray
beside the weak
Frowned upon, poked and
dissected by inexperienced claws.
A disposable carcass that not
even ants would want
Nor the rook that glares
disdainfully
He has eyes on his back
Protuberances, marble in
their starkness
They are the bloodless cut,
not blue
Like the chameleon ocean
tastes
Burgeoning and withdrawing
Such an accomplished jazz
musician
How does he not miss a beat?
Yet the iris-less avalanche is
patient; even fossils can be naked
And chrysalises remain
forever unopened.