i have bent the bindings of the books back,

i have felt my fingers rush across the words
my fingers like silk,
my fingers like sperm whales,
my fingers!  like the crests of waves, like
the hush of two mouths: finally

met.  i have bent back
the bindings, & let the sleep out.

the sleep was there, where
even touched odd.  the sleep was
a twig, a turning point, a revelation
straight from god

a chair that fits.
your body: lumped.

your body against my body
my body against your body
a body, any body

touching, touching, always
touching
the betweens,
the film.  not the film of, just
the film, the space, how long we have to drive
before we can see clearly
the stars that stand in line
like flares, like warning signs, like
beacons
       like
semaphores       i

put

egg in to egg: the

top is down, the yolk is full
& slick, & the glue has been
fed in to place: folded
back, quietly as

fingers rush across
the metal spines
like water,

the soft spooning knees of your words

09/23/2001

Posted on 09/23/2001
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