May 2013
336 posts
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from Night Flight
Yet I cast myself on you, closing my eyes as I leap and then opening them wide as I land. Love is plunging into darkness toward a place that may exist.
Marge Piercy
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“Libraries are a great bastion of physical experience-–a literal city of books,...”
–
- Catherynne M. Valente
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Precognition
Living backwards means only I must suffer everything twice. Those picnics were already loss: with the dragonflies and the clear streams halfway. What good did it do me to know how far along you would come with me and when you would return? By yourself, to a life you call daily. You did not consider me a soul but a landscape, not even one I recognize as mine, but foreign and rich in...
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The Physics of Tea
Sitting in the living room
drinking tea with her and talking about special relativity and the fact that the most distant galaxies are racing away from us at 80% of the speed of light and as she considers this pulling a wayward strand of hair from her face, she begins to twirl it, worrying it between her fingers, and I am touched by the girlishness of this gesture,...
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Death
But when I lay my forehead against the wall, it smells of your neck, lips, your hair, and hay, and water green with frogs and stars.
So I caress the table, windows, lampshade,
like your warm breasts in the dark ripened by night. And when we nestle face to face, I understand that there is no death.
Maurycy Szymel
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from One Winged Angels
Can you draw me the shape of love?
*
John Donne was right after all; the body is the book. He is written into me, into every line and recess, scored into hair skin bone, etched on the pattern of the cell, carved on the door of the heart. My fingertips are branded with his name. He reads me as a blind man does, with fingers and tongue; his hands delve into...
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As Far as Cho-Fu-Sa
What I am, ever, is this: composure of stone. Spare weather visiting the garden, small as the hours I keep watch by. Beyond this wall
Must be better weathers. This claw of stars Must constellate somewhere into a bear, Else names would lie.
Since winter’s thaws, no script from you Save this: “I travel the river and follow The white gulls—”
Husband. See me walking the...
