The Affair

There isn’t a sight that does not make me think of you
of your auburn burning skin in the heat-
a poem so soft on your lips,
it almost is center of all light
I produce
an inflammable kiss
awake
with fumes coalescing into fumes of rainbows
The body rises from something so chalky beneath
an enormous restlessness
traversing nights and days

I wish to remember days like these
beneath my frolic skirt
above my trembling belly
I wish to swallow your blank stare
your stare that revolves like a tangerine sky
with leftover peels of my summer orange.

I wish to remember dry afternoons
with a song inserted in my mouth
a bee that rotates like a tulip
between our fingers entwined.
Like all things of love and soft music.

Midsummer’s mad song

How many times do I need to die
to keep you awake?
A figure of wax evolves and quietly speaks your name to me.
Your tangerine lips,
a lump of sugar and clove
all dissolved in my ears.

What is your language of love?
You reach my body with chemicals gushing
until the body shatters beyond a dot of oblivion.
I part in five thousand ways,
so vivid and distinct,
A chalice of fiction and midsummer’s song.

Darling,
I breathe you like a ghost now.
With a thermometer put on my bosom
and eyes chanting your name forever.

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A slip

i have written in my belly,
a thing for you,
your name that clamours this wall.
i have it preserved into my bones,
these skeletons of dark bowl.
ah! your voice, eccentric, atoms of atoms.
you blink, and i am basket of sunsets.

this life is a point of conversation.
with you, i skip this life.
a word that flutters still, like a pill.
you,
my darling create a tremor,
with spaces white as snowflakes.
i slip into you, a swirl of art.