Wednesday, August 15, 2007

POEM - Me The Floor, You The Ceiling

Me the floor
You the ceiling -
Not the light
Not the brume
That hangs off the white
Like sheets we washed
Today in the basement,
Where I live,
Where I swim
Effluvial tides
Of the waiting
That we do
With each other,
One-on-one
Two-on-two.
It’s not the warmth
That we bring
But the growth -
The fullness, I think.
A crazy sarcoma,
Turns into a swell -
Opportune
Are moments -
Pearls offered up
In the smile
I crack at you –
The horizon
On the curve,
Of an earth
That
We’ve dreamed up.

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