there is no such thing
as a beast with no burden.
this feeling that remains
like sand in the mouth of the oyster
of having cheated everything
to get near to you,
beloved, best-loved,
the one i loved,
defying everything
but words and actions--
with you in every way
but those of fact and fiction.
i dwelled within you secretly
and only because you had
so much to give me,
beloved, best-loved,
the richness of your hair,
the smell of you, the heavy softness.
you were like a phoenix
bursting on the horizon
limitlessly far away
and yet i came close enough
to brush the skin of your hands
with my fingers and call it
an accident
and your ankles
the music you listened to
just scraps
the smell of the knowledge
of things that surrounded you
it was more
than wanting
beloved
i had
an oblique harvest
of you--a harvest
of the things near you
(gathered the dust
of your star
on hands and knees
gathering dust
you formed
inside me
a precious jewel)
i saw the blue of your veins
like rivers
i felt the skin of your voice
on the air.