Moth to light and twisting night, burning bright the greying blight,
culture through your curtained sight in realms of smoke and riddled white.

To grasp, hold firm yet fall so weak; my eyes for luscious truth not seek,
your breath that curled through naked sleep has sliced my atmosphere and teeth.

The sweat that lingers, lines the napes of bitten necks and bruises, scrapes
But heat that enters exits well, for love that hurts is hard to sell.

I gazed upon your eigengrau, curves that haze in blackness now,
the light that shines from bloodshot rods but gospel from a thoughtless god.

In haze of voices, hazing choices, swimming white and dust in places,
blots of ink and termite sheets, your lip’s imprints on burning cheeks


Moats of screams and fading dreams do grave the head that stormy seems
Yellowed light and morning night, laugh away the stalactites

And I who watch you rise and fall, your touch against my breathless gall,
watch you gasp through measured cold, for wind that moves to touch is bold

Your love to me is smoke in teeth, the heart that beats in burning heath,
half of flesh and half of steel, without their bodies left to heal

I set upon the earth such fire, call me love call me a liar,
words will change and words devour, the bitter ash of raining pyre

I walk, darling I never stay, the colored dark I keep at bay
in shadows of your arching spine, the smoke that lingers stinks sublime

Don’t fall for me, I shan’t remain, your form reposed shall wake in pain
alone and shielded by the light,

in fading smoke,

in riddled white.

5 thoughts on “

  1. That BURN in the middle is too “in your face”, don’t you think?
    The rest of the poem is beautifully subtle and wonderfully subtextual and sensual.
    Maybe that link between the first stanza and the second may still remain without the burn.
    But maybe it’s the way the word is used or what it represents that is so unlike the rest of the poem because it’s like bang, in your face types. It belies the subtlety of the poem.
    And the subtlety is only enhanced by the beautiful weaving of explicit and implicit phrases and lyrics. Unless of course, you’re using BURN as a contrast.
    Also, love the first two lines.
    But do you think there could be a better adjective for “night” in the first line?
    while twisting makes sense, I’m not sure it is in keeping with the sexual yet visceral nature of the poem
    something more gory or spooky or raunchy maybe?
    Also, what is awesome is the way the poem doesn’t seem to stop.
    The rhyme, the syllables and the -ing verbs give it a wonderful dynamism that keep it moving, kind of like sex, a search for truth and like the person stumbling through the darkness, constantly moving for the fear of stopping but he’s moving by grasping at objects at things foreign to him.
    There is a consistent lack of punctuation in the second stanza that is unseen in the first.
    Is that by design?


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