he spits into the bathroom sink
bones pushing against the skin of hands
that grip each other's shadows
as the breaths come slower.
lips crack and splinter as they stretch
in a smile that tastes
metallic, dull with fear,
maraschino cherry red
what shining eyes, what glinting teeth
look sharper in the light?
the light brushes up over his shoulders
traces over his softly parted lips
rises and falls against his chest.
i lie curled, a question mark beside him
above me the fan rotates slowly, dizzily,
in its halo of dust
i lie still with my hands at my sides
asking myself whether to wake him
thoughts fill my stomach, sharp wet slivers
i do not wish to touch
my teeth ache silently with the need to bite
"that can't be blood,
blood stains are brown"
and then
a shrinking silence like string wound
around my thumb tighter and tighter still
my oilskin eyes slide uneasily against the unseen
flaking of yellowed paint and discolored chairs
in my head unwelcome are my hands
desperately smearing at the grease
my face left behind on the bus window
two lungs expanding painfully in my stomach
seawater rushing in filling up pressing every inch
against my ribs
"oh,
okay"
you never ask the quietly rusted motor
how it feels
about being fixed
or how its new part fits inside it
she whispers: it's an illness
(we can't stop the fever coming
when the dusk gets dark)
but where is the cherry-sweet syrup
to ease my splintered throat?
he wonders why (didn't we talk
about this before) aren't you better yet
i lay down to feel the sky settle softly over my bones
eyes watering greenly greenly down remember to wear a jacket
he said it gets cold up here in the mountains i remember
as i take my jacket off
feel the green sing forgiveness against my fingers
lilting gently gently in the spaces between skin
and i curve my spine down into the curve of the hills i remember
i saw from the window of the car my father rented, too silver
to stay, flashing the sun back into the green where it belonged
and my eyes longing in the windows, blinking in the wind but not keeping it.
he never let me stop. i stop
and wait for the sagebrush to shiver with me
juniper and
do you love me like sweetest sugar on your fingers
like a leaf pressed tight in your timeworn pages?
am i the yellowing in your windows in the night
the droplets dancing in your toodark hair?
when the stars are too close,
will you take refuge in my voice my hands
and when i know the clouds beneath your skin
will you still let me kiss your cheeks?
do you love me like i love you?
the bluest orchids hide in fallen leaves
of autumns past, in days with curling corners
the truth will set you free, they say, hiding
in fields that know no cure for us
what secrets are eaten here beneath
the aging sky? what fondness the burning air
bestows on the bones we bury here
the dusk that sleeps in every mouth
is rose and scarlet here; we know
the truth will set us free
dance in the starlight, he laughs
but we hide till the rooftops drip with dew
taste your soap-bubble dreams, she whispers
but we fall like ash in an ocean wind
keep your dandelion wishes! they shout
and i wonder at the flecks of gold in their eyes
the hardbright curl of something older,
something more than the teeth behind our lips
i reach for summer days that flee like fireflies darting
weaving through rain-soft fingers
and spilling sunshine in your hair
the eggshell curve of sky will arch bluely over our heads
waiting for fingertips to brush its velvet warmth
our cheeks will blush with its glow, our eyes
shut tight against the smallest brush
of evening chill
he spits into the bathroom sink
bones pushing against the skin of hands
that grip each other's shadows
as the breaths come slower.
lips crack and splinter as they stretch
in a smile that tastes
metallic, dull with fear,
maraschino cherry red
what shining eyes, what glinting teeth
look sharper in the light?
the light brushes up over his shoulders
traces over his softly parted lips
rises and falls against his chest.
i lie curled, a question mark beside him
above me the fan rotates slowly, dizzily,
in its halo of dust
i lie still with my hands at my sides
asking myself whether to wake him
thoughts fill my stomach, sharp wet slivers
i do not wish to touch
my teeth ache silently with the need to bite
"that can't be blood,
blood stains are brown"
and then
a shrinking silence like string wound
around my thumb tighter and tighter still
my oilskin eyes slide uneasily against the unseen
flaking of yellowed paint and discolored chairs
in my head unwelcome are my hands
desperately smearing at the grease
my face left behind on the bus window
two lungs expanding painfully in my stomach
seawater rushing in filling up pressing every inch
against my ribs
"oh,
okay"
you never ask the quietly rusted motor
how it feels
about being fixed
or how its new part fits inside it
she whispers: it's an illness
(we can't stop the fever coming
when the dusk gets dark)
but where is the cherry-sweet syrup
to ease my splintered throat?
he wonders why (didn't we talk
about this before) aren't you better yet
i lay down to feel the sky settle softly over my bones
eyes watering greenly greenly down remember to wear a jacket
he said it gets cold up here in the mountains i remember
as i take my jacket off
feel the green sing forgiveness against my fingers
lilting gently gently in the spaces between skin
and i curve my spine down into the curve of the hills i remember
i saw from the window of the car my father rented, too silver
to stay, flashing the sun back into the green where it belonged
and my eyes longing in the windows, blinking in the wind but not keeping it.
he never let me stop. i stop
and wait for the sagebrush to shiver with me
juniper and
do you love me like sweetest sugar on your fingers
like a leaf pressed tight in your timeworn pages?
am i the yellowing in your windows in the night
the droplets dancing in your toodark hair?
when the stars are too close,
will you take refuge in my voice my hands
and when i know the clouds beneath your skin
will you still let me kiss your cheeks?
do you love me like i love you?
the bluest orchids hide in fallen leaves
of autumns past, in days with curling corners
the truth will set you free, they say, hiding
in fields that know no cure for us
what secrets are eaten here beneath
the aging sky? what fondness the burning air
bestows on the bones we bury here
the dusk that sleeps in every mouth
is rose and scarlet here; we know
the truth will set us free
dance in the starlight, he laughs
but we hide till the rooftops drip with dew
taste your soap-bubble dreams, she whispers
but we fall like ash in an ocean wind
keep your dandelion wishes! they shout
and i wonder at the flecks of gold in their eyes
the hardbright curl of something older,
something more than the teeth behind our lips