Monday, April 16, 2007

cdxxxiii

it’s getting hot in the asylum.
the attraction under the clavicles.
please bring me home
and last til the end of time my love.
give me the lovin’ that is
paperback warm. so vertical.

do you know where we found the lines
just before our love got lost?
when the hot earth trembled.
please bring me home.
and give it (me) more sunlight. moderate

these dreamy volumes. these dreamy
dreams maintaining their shape.
fulfilling their desirability.
I felt your heart so close to mine.
every stolen. my own
filled home. the heavy accent.

the ice water sitting on the table and its many reflective genres.
I thought the sun rose in your eyes.
I keep the thought of us
cooked up in the moon and the stars. not the asylum
nor the paperback sipped into the sunlight.
but give it to me. and I would still. why do you