"You Are" (an unfinished poem,dating from May)
You are of sacred fluids.
The only landscape with which
I could replace her cool, damp one
is yours—balmy. The shade seems
rarer here, without the rails
of skyscrapers or brush of willows
to hide your face
so I crawl where I am known,
beneath your warm belly to lie
pressed and oddly free. I know
its smell, contours, and the inexplicable
kindness of your eyes, the blue they take on
in semi-darkness,
the blessed lashes.
And I find no need to declare
our love to a wider world.
I only scale your shifting body,
while you do the same,
then grow quiet and still again.
Look directly and speak to me.
I left her broad walkways
only for the tightness of your arms.
2 comments:
Whitney,
I'm randomly reading this stuff - and its great. This poem, in my humble opinion, could be finished if you cut the last 3 lines.
I think you've already painted your picture when you say:
'And I find no need to declare
our love to a wider world.
I only scale your shifting body,
while you do the same,
then grow quiet and still again.'
It reads like a declaration. It's triumphant in its indifference: very much in the Buddha nature.
The last lines ('i only scale your shifting body...') are at once resigning and revitalizing. Circular in the best way. Your desire for (and, therefore, conflict about) London is, to me, clearly settled by your affinity to familiarity.
It is as if you left and fell in love with a strange language, and felt as if all the words you'd known before would suddenly mean nothing to you. But, upon your return you realized that they sat in wait, that one beauty does not replace or compete with another, rather all beauty compliments beauty.
I think the Beatles in 'Within You Without You" sums it up, really:
"And the time will come when you see we're all one,
and life flows on within you and without you."
Keep writing jeez,
-Zach
so after i read all this stuff - i made myself a blog
zfarrow.blogspot.com
Post a Comment