I forget this present world. I remember only you
An iridescent O bracketing my world now as the sun’s bangle
Brackets the moon in one of those not too common conjunctions
Of stellar bodies, all aligning themselves, all eclipsing themselves.

I forget the appropriate word. I remember only you
Pulsing like old silver or fall sunlight, which speckles the quite tangle
Of my nerves buzzing, as I bend over my long meditation
On what I can only describe as love for you.
I forget the open book. I remember only you
Rising to meet my eye with the curvature and the angle
Of your belly, translucent and mysterious like an altar, on which
I drop these empty pages as speechlessness falls around me.
I forget the unfurling cello. I remember only you.
Chugging through my smoky nights as your green eyes un-spangle
The stations of memory situated on Time’s liquid rails, like notes of music
On staves arching over ache of this momentary separation.
I forget the massed beeches. I remember only you
As I run my palms over their smooth barks, from which dangle
Weathered lovers’ advertisements, gashes made with knife or nail –
This is how I want you to cut me, again and again with your fine
Scalpeled presence, and spring me into the clearing of being.




My Poems