rhythm, sinuous and
cracked as
a misspelled word.
asleep in the red caverns
of your heart
was a jewel the size of a fist.
it was my love
but it was cancer.
red and ravenous
with jaws like door hinges.
my love,
i wipe my face
on your empty shirt.
Showing posts with label veronica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label veronica. Show all posts
veronica
drop,
words
down
after
her
as she
sinks
away.
i have not
yet
heard
one word
hit
the
lowest
depth.
veronica
veronica
but no one thought
and no one guessed
what the cloth caught
when it took his impress.
and no one heard
and no one saw
what the cloth learned
when it touched to his jaw.
my lord i begged
to be thrown away
but i received your dregs
and so i was saved.
my lord i cried
to be left unannealed
but away i was prized
and so i was pealed.
my lord, it was dark
in the place where i lay
until you lifted me up
into the light of your day
and blinded me to all but your way.
and bound me, bound me, bound me to your way.
veronica
still, taut
as a cat
waits.
they all thought
i would sleep
in a lily-white bed,
blankets clean
and crisp
as the stars overhead,
without memories
of stifling,
until i was done
breathing in
and out
scorn--
a sensitive nature,
i waited
until they were spent,
and now i take
my own.
you left me alone
like an easter egg
and
i had
bad dreams.
as a cat
waits.
they all thought
i would sleep
in a lily-white bed,
blankets clean
and crisp
as the stars overhead,
without memories
of stifling,
until i was done
breathing in
and out
scorn--
a sensitive nature,
i waited
until they were spent,
and now i take
my own.
you left me alone
like an easter egg
and
i had
bad dreams.
veronica
half-living here at
the flooding end of time,
a planed and constant fear
at the back of my mouth--
afloat,
clinging
to meaning,
meaning
in memory
as slender
as the
print
of a
foot
on pavement
in my mind, i suck your shadow from the stone.
i remake your foot from the taste of the ground.
in memory, i spiral down, down, down,
to the rock and to the bone.
the flooding end of time,
a planed and constant fear
at the back of my mouth--
afloat,
clinging
to meaning,
meaning
in memory
as slender
as the
of a
foot
on pavement
in my mind, i suck your shadow from the stone.
i remake your foot from the taste of the ground.
in memory, i spiral down, down, down,
to the rock and to the bone.
veronica
i held you closer
and closer
until
nothing
but cloth
divided us
i invited you in
i let you turn me
like a season
i turned you like
a season i turned you
sharpness to shadow
pleasure on pleasure.
as if we were yellow
as roses, i invited you in,
i let you turn me
like a season.
from spring to summer
i turned you forward.
a poppy bloomed
in the dooryard
of your bed.
from spring to winter
you turned me; you held
my face
against the time
and you turned me.
and closer
until
nothing
but cloth
divided us
i invited you in
i let you turn me
like a season
i turned you like
a season i turned you
sharpness to shadow
pleasure on pleasure.
as if we were yellow
as roses, i invited you in,
i let you turn me
like a season.
from spring to summer
i turned you forward.
a poppy bloomed
in the dooryard
of your bed.
from spring to winter
you turned me; you held
my face
against the time
and you turned me.
veronica
masquerade / paper faces on parade / masquerade / hide your face so the world will never find you
there is a sweater on the floor that my mom knitted of expensive yarn
i will have to take it apart and reknit it because i cannot wear white anymore.
just smile for me and let the day begin /
you are the sunshine that lights my heart within
my love, i bury my face
in your empty shirt.
i drench the cuffs of my shirt
in the spray from my heart.
why is it secret? / what have we to hide?
fingers like icicles
on the inner thigh.
there is a sweater on the floor that my mom knitted of expensive yarn
i will have to take it apart and reknit it because i cannot wear white anymore.
just smile for me and let the day begin /
you are the sunshine that lights my heart within
my love, i bury my face
in your empty shirt.
i drench the cuffs of my shirt
in the spray from my heart.
why is it secret? / what have we to hide?
fingers like icicles
on the inner thigh.
veronica
meditations of a monster:
my policy is always to say what i don't mean. never to hold conversation accountable for truth. because truth isn't easily expressed, and spoken words are in their nature too easy. i like to be around inside them like a dancer inside her streamer. i like to hold them out in front
like a cloth pressed to a face
so that i can rage into them and people still hear laughter. and cut into them but people feel caressed. as long as your intentions are pure it is easy to decieve people
like a cloth pressed to a face
because people instinctively know what can harm them, but everything else flows by easily as time. and the skin peels down so soft, so fine
like a cloth pressed to a face
easy like a loose-rind tangerine. as if i were straining a ricotta.
my policy is always to say what i don't mean. never to hold conversation accountable for truth. because truth isn't easily expressed, and spoken words are in their nature too easy. i like to be around inside them like a dancer inside her streamer. i like to hold them out in front
like a cloth pressed to a face
so that i can rage into them and people still hear laughter. and cut into them but people feel caressed. as long as your intentions are pure it is easy to decieve people
like a cloth pressed to a face
because people instinctively know what can harm them, but everything else flows by easily as time. and the skin peels down so soft, so fine
like a cloth pressed to a face
easy like a loose-rind tangerine. as if i were straining a ricotta.
veronica
masks
the image is of
love
huge, hard
as a thick stream
of milk
pouring
like niagra falls
over a threadbare will
love comes
torrentially.
there was the red
and the black
veronica
i reached into that core of dark
and said your name.
the image is of
love
huge, hard
as a thick stream
of milk
pouring
like niagra falls
over a threadbare will
love comes
torrentially.
there was the red
and the black
veronica
i reached into that core of dark
and said your name.
veronica
one changes so much when there is so much to change.
these objects around me, the visually there, the touched--
things are nothing more than actions
slow enough in time
to be identified
as singular
the singularities
are so small
so small
bound a thousand years out from here and now,
up into brilliant white fire-marked space
and that dust becomes a face
and that dust becomes a face
cosmic and forceless
infinitely fine
your name a breath
your name a breath
in you all things reside
these objects around me, the visually there, the touched--
things are nothing more than actions
slow enough in time
to be identified
as singular
the singularities
are so small
so small
bound a thousand years out from here and now,
up into brilliant white fire-marked space
and that dust becomes a face
and that dust becomes a face
cosmic and forceless
infinitely fine
your name a breath
your name a breath
in you all things reside
veronica
i was cloth
woven
to catch
your face.
did you see
in me
that shape?
nothing else perhaps
no mirror
could give you
what i could any clearer.
all blinding
white, all gold,
all flowers
teeth-grit with
opening fold,
all spring
pushed out
as if it were summer
not
seasons' betrayal
but
to find
an owner.
i shudder
for a limit
and find
white only
and gold
all-flowering--
a god
that lonely would have
me heal, that
gives nothing away.
woven
to catch
your face.
did you see
in me
that shape?
nothing else perhaps
no mirror
could give you
what i could any clearer.
all blinding
white, all gold,
all flowers
teeth-grit with
opening fold,
all spring
pushed out
as if it were summer
not
seasons' betrayal
but
to find
an owner.
i shudder
for a limit
and find
white only
and gold
all-flowering--
a god
that lonely would have
me heal, that
gives nothing away.
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