Then make me a tree
that I may reach through earth
lengthening root
climb up, take form
gather again, that moment shook
from memory never
where moon was twice its natural size
reflected in your angry eyes
sitting in idling car
my sticky throated youth
your still punching vigor
movement then, as taught immemorial
of lovers who are not yet.
…
watchful of your thin wrist
flickering just before touch
warm air, window down
languid stroke of time
painting all these years hence
something you have
absented from, like unpicked fruit
in turning, strange and unfamiliar
I dial that feeling
quite often
not fantasy, no
something real
painted over
turned to shellac, too hard to prize
open again
…
I watch her in time
the girl I was
wondering at her thoughts
as I know them almost
unformed and loose
like her hair, thicker and tumbling than now
the auburn xylophone of her back
I could fall in love with
each of us again
the blush of your pomegranate lips
how your dark eyes soak up light
extinguish it black
no wonder, I say … no wonder
…
yet, would I be here now?
if I had not
beseeched night in stolen lament;
if it is meant … let her call
fate or you obey, though months had passed
a moment, as electric as fire burns oxygen
like fingers on your neck portend soft doom
female silhouettes of trees sway in night breeze
would they have whispered?
no don’t do it, don’t go, turn back
heavy keys in light fabric, jingle like steps
wide open un-rehearsed land rushing past
silence and folded roosting birds, holding their breath
…
it wasn’t lust
it wasn’t yet love
something other
we were always
in between, time and sense
every song written about
when you leaned, close enough
fusion then, a kind of glory
unspoken of to this day
sealing our fate
like flightless coin
run over many times
shall silver
in tarmac, make
an echo of the very stars
blessing
its
shining
watch
If I met you now
TheFeatheredSleep 