Let me kiss everything that says skin,
Everything that says you
Every pore where I find myself!
Let me smell myself from within!
Let me be your flesh!
There are mirrors inside
That tell of me,
They are shattered by tears
And rebuilt for hate and desire.
There are books always afloat:
Empty books,
And No-One.
Let me hold them
Till they turn to blood,
Till I become you.
On the bed of leaves
We are wormwood
For the plinths of life.
Fingers linger
Wanting our opaline colour.
Eyes along the airless distance –
Reflections in a pond
Beyond the skin.
Starting with the whiplash that gave our names,
Let us measure the courses
Of the echoing din
That built our cocoons!
Under the stinging screens of Paradise
I shall scream the times
In nothings of you,
On the forest needles
Where I pine for your veils.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *