Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into an artifice of eternity.

Friday, June 24, 2016

SPURS


~ For JH~

Even the sands awake –
We have seen colossi bloom and disappear,
a word’s breath cloud a promise,
and eggs of quartz hatch traces
a wind of blades cuts clear again. 

There is a glass pulse
tremulous as longing at the bed of boding –
love rocks the posts and shells dropped
along the shore remember faintly
the morphine-laden deep. 

We are immersed as sleep –
the hosts of dreamers banished
to a threshold like guests:
we stand in the long hall of midnight,
Föhn fevers waiting for the sun to strike.

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