I hoist my feet against the wall
My head hangs off the far side of the bed.
I press my cheek against the wall. I lift my nightshirt
to my neck, cool my belly.
A tunnel winds the space between plaster and wood,
continues, deep into the earth.
There are two holes like scooped-out eyes
where bolts had been. I press my forehead above them.
Squint. It's dark. I know you're there.
I never entered.
I tried. No one showed me.
If I were good, I'd have lit candles,
shined them through the holes.
I never entered. I pressed
my skin to the wall. Nothing moved to let me through.
The light outside my window
keeps me awake.
That's how I know it's coming
I peek through the blinds, through the screen,
squint the image whole.
Moths catch the light and glow.
Their wings beat: larita larita
Take me from behind the blinds, Larita
I've waited every night for a year.
The dark circles round my eyes
speak my devotion. I wait
to ride the dark hall of your hair
got up as night, into the night,
the uncombed sky in every direction
unshielded, unmeasured out.
To watch with you I become the sky
where every night you persist.
Because I kneel when others sit
you open your eye for me.
Because I recognize and give you a name.
weight leaves the side of the neck
like a hand it grips the shoulder
From the other side you look at me.
On the other side is light.
Once, I lived on the other side.
Imagine breaking through sky
it would tear like a large black napkin.
I can feel the breath I would take.
See your face staring through mine.
You'd ask what took you so long
You'd say now you are home
I would be home.
Lying on my bed it hovers a hand's length away
To define it is to put a hand on the groove above an eyebrow
to feel outside of flesh where fingertips greet skin.
press your nails against the wall
If I want in the right place
it's already with me
in my blanket hollowed like a lung.
Knees fill the backs of my knees,
Nipples press my shoulder blades.
your shoulder, where I rest my hand
The sensation of a voice: sweet pea, white january
takes me from where my bones ache
from where I cup my hands against the wall and sing
when you sit-up nights, to look out your window
I rest my hand
when you press your head against the wall
cover your ears
sit against the wall, counting till morning
Close to morning,
everything's black and moves
like a black crayon on a black mask.
There's an hour nothing speaks
except from behind the mask
Breath lifts my skull, pushing
the full expanse of sky.
I feel what would be, if my head were sky
looking down at me.
Walls break down. I become
myself for a moment, before they start back up.
The first rest on a long flight of stairs
reminds me what will be when I get there,
carries me, curls-up next to me in bed
becoming my other, my other, lending me eyes
in place of arms, disguised as breath.
Stay with me.
You lived inside me. You changed. I am the difference.
Keep me inside.
I can't keep what no longer exists.
I exist as I am.
As you are, you can't stay
I want to be with you
If you stay, I'm no longer the difference.
If I go, I'll leave you behind.
Without me, you can't go.
I'm not ready.
You will be.
Will it be painful?
It will be painful if you stay.
I want to stay. . .
Leave. You'll take me with you.
Again & again I invent it:
winter, the bells
the low edge of the cliff
a white bird
and the moon
barely visible in day.
The sleeve of your jacket
A smallness falls out of me.
We set out yesterday.
The city is behind us,
highways & trash barrels
the wind knocked over.
I don't know how long ago yesterday was.
know me here, made small, across the silence of infinity
I am here.
I am afraid.
We are so small.
It owns us
and we are part of it.
I do nothing to create
I have nothing else to give.
There are no names left in me
only the truth.
the crowd screams
hum of an electric guitar
about to keeps going. . .
nickel in the bucket
a fallen cigarette. . .
one day will get me out of this
remember? how it felt?
to be strong?
what arms could
swollen against a miracle?
three hundred foot sequoia
holds back the rain
I keep waiting for a sign
on this ridge
your name called
calls back to me
I would I would but you
against me turn
oak in a hail storm
still, the car door opens. . .
slowly, your back driving away. . .
and then. . . and then. . .
circle exchanged for a loop
this day this day this day I would
fallen cigarette, hair
loose against your legs
a branch for a sword!
every yellowa minuet!
If. . . If. . . again
I'd tell you. . .
I love you