new monster

zinc-white and subtle,

the drag of a blunt nail across a lower lip--

the purples and sables

of your dress--the sineal curve

of your hair

tossed into the wind

that touched

your face.

i stood behind you and that same

wind blew

against me.

remembered perfumes, later,

bright in mind as colors.

lips pressed into a palm like milk.

lips lapping each other.

i said your name

and reached

inside.

milton

i dreamed that

you told me to stop

wiggling my tongue like a snake

in a garden.

and i dreamed that there

were five steps to heaven.

all of them were made from you.

i dreamed a streak of red flourescence

across your forehead--as if i'd marked it

there with a light-laden thumb--

i dreamed only your eyes and mouth

and then dreamed only your sides

and heart.

my limbs twisted

like sounds.

i wondered why

i was the only screaming thing

in a river of fire

that shimmered silent

as a mirror.

milton

heartbeat a face
image from out the waves,
veronica
looks at me still
i imagine,
a star
in the sky, shining
like sun on the water

a million miles away.

i don't need to remember
what i can't forget, a feeling
lodged
so deep below
the surface
it turned the whole breadth of the fountain
to gold, to one gilt object,
as water piled upon water,
sweet blood washing the vein, red
with the breath
i drank
of your face.

so far away
it was a dream:
the chalice,
the tower through which
the blood trails
like a white sleeve,
the point
that pinions
everything

worked free
the door to the tower
opening
onto something
less imaginary.

it was a train that took me away from here
and a train will bring me home.