i remember October sweetly—i remember the sights of fallen leaves
and sprouting lust that sprang up from the cracks in the sidewalks
where we moved into the breeze. autumn’s insignia puts its lips
onto our foreheads; we let the moisture drip down over our eyes
so that we are blinded from pooling from our blown eyelashes.
i knew the feeling of stepping on marble columns, of going through the woods
carrying golden apples and pears in my hand to feed her parched mouth—
then dry and brittle like the leaves that feel crisply at our feet
while the moon crept above us, indistinguishable from the street lamps
that marked our nervous path.
i recall our breath, hastened and dear with the hint of awkward meters
slant rhymes and broken images: the steps are spondees upon the ground
and my muddled words are dactyls—soft, paced, paced and nothing
when compared to the beating of our feet on the asphalt.
* * * * *
next to you
to make you
pool yourself onto the ground
to feed the earth
with your loveliness.
* * * * *
if God did take my fingers, make them bear
upon your clutching hands and shaking skin,
i wonder how you’d take me, how you’d stare
and hold me from your face within my sin.
if God did take my eyes to make them wide
upon your body, turning hips so firm,
i wonder how you’d make my gazes hide
themselves and make my visions softly burn.
if God did take my lips and make them wet
with pleasures, dreams, and beauty walking by,
i wonder how you’d make my lips forget
trangressions made as they await and pine.
if God did take my love and make it yours,
i wonder how you would become abhorred.