“And like dissolves like?”
Smoke curled around her lips,
Slipskin, anemic, pale
pointed just like a vampire.
Long fingers, elegant, morose,
soft-curled about the flaking bulb.
She rubbed. The peel shook, shuddered,
gave sickly crunch.
sharp putrid smell spread through the room–
a djinn she had released.
and like will dissolve like,
Sallow rosette, the vampire teeth–
she also cracked, she, too, turned fog,
and endless, endless muttering.
Go down, go down,
to country roads,
to country roads whose hazy dust
falls gently on the briar rose,
it coats the dewy petals so.
And sunlight rolls lopsidedly
through mudpaths after milky rain,
where butterflies slow blink their wings,
while slyly licking mud.
Here harvest may you heady dreams,
and fullness of your breaths.
After you leave, the hazel-copse
will turn its nuts hard bronze.
You had body and I
I wrought blood into citrus;
bearing clementines for your all-averting gaze.
Now those branches are barren
and today you descended.
See I am a poor host,
feeding you before time.
Sit in silence, old friend.
To your honor, I ebbed;
To your credit, I grew.
The sunlight has faded to brick-rosy dusk,
aquamarine eyes cannot glint any longer.
So why does your hand,
And why do you stand,
a mere shade,
Please shut the window now, it’s night
you mustn’t let the boo-hags in.
(Its hinges sigh like willow boughs,
it shudderingly locks.)
The night was made to use our nose
just like the day is for the eyes;
jasmine and peatmoss, nighttime dew,
and cold sharp smell of stars.
Oh child, you’re small
and still so bright
the night can’t cloak you yet.
Breathe deep sweet dreams for now
then nighttime will be yours.
I reject your offerings
though they be burnt.
For so long– for so weepingly long
have I dreamt
of your outstretchéd hand
cupping these very ashes
like a trembling bough.
No. The hour has passed
and the day has grown stale.
The dormice will scatter.
Let them be your feast.
The worm-flames in my cigarette
were writhing with great vigor.
A howling wind, a feeding wind
ran rapid through the trees.
No stars today.
No sun before– just clouds.
A deathly pallor.
The ancient trees, the beechwood groves
were where the remnants lay.
My heart beat hot within my chest
but this, as well, was secret.