Just a poem

Distance is in our blood tonight
Capture three drops and squeeze it
Between thin glass slides
To see the spaces
Past microscopic
And into the trails of seashore
Ribbons again

Not an emptiness of time
Vacated and hollowed of air
Palm prints on all the sugar canisters
Lines nearly followable, just
A second too fine for proof

Don’t worry
I’ll deny that I know more
Than one taste
My sweetness isn’t coveted
Until I select the granules
To be distributed through
Ancient wires
Back from their rusting days
Of use
And selected with a clean breath

Alleviating perfect
Until she rises to the top
Of the allocated pile
Her tongue twists to the left,
Unsure of how to form unfinished words
Her mouth follows pace by pace

I open my palms to read their etchings,
Cool bowls of drinking water cup open
To the floor
Splashing on fading tiles
Diagrams of lifeless love
Bleeding their inkiness into the foldings
Between.

Particles find their way in.

Rub the back of my right hand along my mouth
Leaving a lipstick story to be read
By bold passerby
Who stop to stare
And take themselves holy
With a streak of red
Dyed in now to
Flaming
Lips run aimlessly bright

Sea wed
Wreathes from her arms
An underwater marriage
Floats lightly to stream
And hands with cluttered skin
Can be entwined with fine weeds
Bones to dry
Are left behind
To shiver themselves
Into sand.


*point of interest-as I was writing the last stanza I had completely forgotten I'd used sea imagery earlier. Nice subconscious circling back. I love it when that happens....*