Delirious Sweat...

my mother’s eyes might watch or
my father’s fingers might touch
scratch their dogs’ bellies,
the whole place is a thirst-

desert’s hot sky
salt crystals with nothing more to bite
the who/what/where/when/why
the riots of moths

never to be suckled
des(perate) figures hurling each other up;
to see but not be seen
sinks in a soil of doubt.

(the sky seem busy)
sands are tugging
that ants had amassed
desert, more than anywhere!

My Cumulus Depth...

coconut beaches
creeping against the lips

phosphorescent and pulsing
relationship of stone

systematic and enduring
all the day they roared with bees...

dry and white by midsummer
feelings were ash-gray

spangled with sunset at the top
wrinkled aspen leaves

of someone kissed in sleep;
in the darkness cold muzzles

between the burnt peaks
the half-moon rides

smoky and indistinct
a small dense cumulus cloud

peaks deep in itself; without a quiver
just that sea and me-

..............................

indefinable  divided the outline of your body
 my hook snagged in a struggle of desire

 body moves on
from your navel to where the darkness begins

imperfect and constant inside me
to throw in your river

my hair hangs surly and limp;
. i throw an arm over you

Our naked shivering bodies
in the dark  endless-

...................

there’s a leaf falling -
a pack of dogs loose in my dream
the fuzz of dried grass
catches fire
as it lays eggs inside me..

P.S-
please suggest me a title-

do you know it is!

The street-lamp’s vigil
 it’s love- i squeeze your waist

 like a language
i undress and enter
painted there

clumps and fluffs

like bursting pillows
sweat and desire..

 if it’s love-!
the un-loved year
with many tributaries
between my thighs
i wear the butterflies
we collected together
amid the infinite
their curtains beating

it’s love-
the arc tightens and closes
a deep and torrential river
the map hangs before me
his body—your body
to overcome; to conquer..

Painting by AmandaNutzman

.

mysterious bonds

In tasting
power of survival
characters were promises
didactic phrases
to take you in and out of-


I myself am not myself
under the fleet from last night
bird hits the glass and the bird
shatters. It repeats. ..
three crows ride.


I want to laugh from the middle of my belly
the social sanskrit of my life
mother murdering me
to explore as poems
again and again...


magpies slice
    sky sunset
my own garden wall, bend to place
seeds in the black earth; The babble of our children
fills my ears


so hard my breasts bounce
in the rainforest, through the cedars, beneath the eagles and herons
one to one a seven-day kiss-


black sky in the middle of the afternoon
You told me a story-
carpeted with shrubs, just beneath (her) feet-

Woman!

My flesh that hungers
cut them -
and stand them in your blue vase..

breasts warm
your lips quick
watching the sun flee

in my skin's knowing;
spiced armpits
an endless harvest...