oil poured-out
and pooled, light lines
on tin tubs,
she is. we are
icy vines on panes,
blue shadow veins.
driven deep
beneath the waves
to watch plankton pull
the blood and bone,
the wait for the white noise
to sparkle out of the dark
the deep shivering
breath that it’s now.
with a push the glass rattled,
the windows black,
fire not even warm.
you and i are this.
she sings in the rafters
and wakes the static.
1 comment:
this is one of the most beautiful poems i have ever read.
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