Ripples and Train Rides and Buffalo

Your beauty inveigles me; I take up a wandering search, tracking
across the frozen tundra of time the scent of your skin, to lay before
your shrine, my body of work for your body of flesh.

I put my lips to your breast, circle my tongue like a moon orbiting
a planet. I want to land in your world and explore for 6 lifetimes.
Call my name and I’ll appear at the speed of light.

The typewriter sits across the table, next to the moon. I reach for both
and end up hugging a cloud. The phone is off the hook.

When we sit together, not talking, it’s like the stillness of a pond;
you open your mouth and throw a stone, and now we’re both
transformed by ripples.

We were on a long train ride through the Spanish countryside.
I asked if you wanted anything from the dinning car, said I wanted
a snack, but all I really wanted was to catch my breath. I haven’t
been able to breathe since France.

You lose yourself thinking about tomorrow. You don’t exist tomorrow.
You’re just a prop there, like a baseball bat in a movie about Babe Ruth.
You can only hit a home run today. Stand in the box, and watch the spin
of the ball as it howls through the Now…

It’s beating heart a perfect drum… the music carries you across landmines
and dance floors. Spin your partner around with tenderness and grace.
Dance on top of explosions.

Your hand coiled up in mine as we watched planes take off from Madrid.
The sky a perfect field of blue lilies. We made fun of the old man across
from us, crocheting a scarf. But I secretly wished I could crochet a scarf
for you.

Your lips taste like tangerine. Because I just ate a tangerine, you tell me,
it was then I knew…

There can only be one… this is just how my heart works.  There is only
one sun and one moon. Your name inflates inside me, lifts me into the
sky like that old man in Up.

Nothing like power to intoxicate this sensitive slug. We were by the
front door, feeling the blast of winter air every time it opened.
A song came on that you liked and you bobbed your head at a 45-degree
angle. I came unglued like a cheap Chinese toy…

And the moon slowly circled, like a lion around a young buffalo.



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