whispering touch me in my
pale trespass
she spins and the earth turns in her direction
she doesn't know it
God drips down
but only in things like manholes and mascara
she swears He's there in her eye shadows
pink explosion
while part of her wishes He was gone
she's watching the roar of revelation
in some sphere beyond sweat and sea,
she talks and everyone listens but her
I move far when she stands
afraid my awkward walk will drift into her sudden splashes of grace
-Dan Flore
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
HOORAY for the first mailbox poem!
for that
you get your very own post.
sudden splashes of grace
back of your neck
upswept fingers
sunshaft late
afternoon, summer
brushing the hair
from my eyes
-Twilight-
slinky tubular insect
taps
sullen lemon core
sheer blossom-quiver
under the marble sudden
of
sky
-December-
Is it only in dreams that we are lovers?
Emptiness thrusts itself into me
bright as lightning in
a pale sleep.
Post a Comment