Monday, October 16, 2006

"It's Just Not Happening"

It's Just Not Happening

A blanket over the bay today, a wet
rug of fluff, God's pillow picked
of cotton, what escapes in the rise;
desire, a palpable fog. Over you,
something between us and the sun,
some umbrella of longing, broke down
and spiky with words. I could hold
you, but imagination is no match
for this. Your lips, your sun choice kiss
would plunge me into this mass and
grace. There, in the gullet, where song
takes root, a silence, a taking back.

A heart banks between the rungs
of a water-bound bridge, this daily crossing
I have no fare for, this divot and
divide, this dive, and rise. All of me
aloft. Let down.

Come fly in the face of this delusion.
Double-book the moment. Fly back stand-by.
Stand by me. Linger. Taste. The passages
of a dream become you. Become me. Before
it's gone.



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