Saturday, February 1, 2014

Tour de force

Your body is
a country
I have traveled far to come to.
Your own soul a
state of mind I sought in
I composed the flitter
    of your kiss
before I knew its
taste, and in the arms of strangers, I was
warmed by the flame of your embrace.
I have traveled far to find you.
Long before your limbs began to

                                                        teach me,
my fingers traced imagined memory

                                                            of your face. 

I took the back roads, embalmed
in untouched dirt.  Journeyed years through
     untamed time. 

I stopped and lodged in sordid day,

fled from
tempt of night.  I read letters you
never sent to facilitate my
steps.  Caught substance of

stars and used their flush to
                                      light the way. 

Nearing brink of
discontent, juggling all I’d lost
I strained to hear La Cle des Chants. 
I sought

housed within a strand
   of hope.

I marked your turns, counted lines
  of love,
sowed sonnets
                         the soil
                                 of a past
life’s grave, and
uncivilized, into the setting
                          of your arms
the every
aspect of
your softness and now I plan
                               to know you.

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