Tuesday, May 20, 2008

How hardly I move, now sheltering shame, now a harbor for sloth
I was a shallow sea, the bleached moon was my sun
A line of happy ghosts recedes, falsely boiling
Trembling away their names, leaving my fallen name alongside
Would they have me kiss the stones? A road of stones
They recede. Shy light, you hid behind low buildings
Masturbating me, never answering any questions
Instead you told me everything else.
Quick breast, I met you next and truly met you
or thought so - and nothing you said did not hurt me
How could you have known me? Because you were young
Your glance assumed my solitary gasping mornings -
Pages that led me to you. No summer without swimming
Tired fish, lemon kiss, we were worse than the gray water
Dirtier than the Delaware from our burned shoulders down -
Quiet yellow head, safety of curls - brace me in your
hard abdomen, your wisp of back
Your lonely arms which sought each other under your girl-mother breasts
I wish that you knew. I wanted to tell you. I've just learned to say.
Maybe you learned for yourself anyway.


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