love as the first layer.

a love poem.

 

 

Love as the first layer, but me, expiry as an exhalation of breath-dance.

The pasdetrois of three performers, the wind, the bird that carries all

possibilities or a lamb slain and eaten as sacrifice. Nothing helped.

 

Even trying new seating positions from an upstairs window (insert loneliness here)

thinking of the nicknames we shared between us as a private conveyance of truth.

Everyone knows, there is no rightful end after that. I miss you, but like Mighty Mouse,

I can see thru s**t.

 

Does there exist a ferm flowerless spore, producing roots but not seeds in that

garden hair of yours? On this day, and seven days preceeding it, the ides of a chance

meeting, you in a lavender blouse, idiopathic, eating a burger and fries in a fold down

chair. I am the blind idolent with immoderate devotion to your knot-knees.

 

I write the words of far too many dreams.

From an imaginary place, from an imagined electrode, I was sparked like an arc,

struck at the beginning of a machine too ordinary to move. Just look at the macaroni

 

spilled with its orange-yellow, black crest on the white tablecloth. Hey waiter!

does anything resemble the night of so few insects; You left in costume and bells?

Traditionally I let the butterflies do this from their old fashioned garden roses,

subdued but self inflected,

bid goodby.

 

Reviews

[Kristallo]

This is absolutely spellbinding. There are so many lines to fall in love with, to marvel at, that I found myself completely enraptured in its depth and sensual prose. "Does there exist a ferm flowerless spore, producing roots but not seeds in that garden hair of yours?" THAT. Wow. And everything that follows, this poem flows with justice and ambiguous beauty, capturing moments, love, and quaint witticisms with masterful skill. You are a wonderful writer.

[Emily B]

love poems should abound, there just isn't enough love in this world, and how can that be?

[h d e rushin]

just trying out different sounds.....a different kind of love poem..dana.