Strings

 


“Drone in D” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) – Lic Creative Commons

 

I want to be inside you
know you like a nightly prayer,
read from string theories
tied around your body

          Unravel your rolled parchment
          paper arms,
          navigation charts to bridges
          spanning connected dreams across
          stars

                    which I was too heavy
                    to cross once you breathed
                    the knowledge of gravity
                    into my ear

And so
I sever pieces from myself
to lighten this flesh,
feed my toll to the sky,
claim part of that scape
spuming dark matter which
I do not understand,
but regardless become;

                    …The too long slit up a waitress’s skirt,
                    her mother’s pearls

                    …Light cutting through curtains
                    on a Sunday morning

                    …Fallen needles in a pine forest, or in a
                    grandmother’s sewing room

                    …The slipping outer wedding ring of
                    Saturn, with its ulterior motive
                    towards Venus

Inside you…
white knuckled
headboard gripping nightly prayer,
I am your apt pupil

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