Tag: love

Stained Shirt

Wrapped around the steel wire of your
Frame, the stain of Chardonnay, four
Four bottles that bent the room, and
Turned us out and the purple plume, hand
Over hand, four in hand, crooked knot
That pulls my seams in line but not
In sync, they’re jumbled scattered skittered
And the ice drip that bloomed from our
Limbs, limbing, limping, like cherries bittered
In the jars of liquor my dad kept on the satin wood
Assembled with His hands and stood
To hold the fruits above the head
In the memory of rooms I once said
Were my own, my home, a stone of a place
I keep in my jacket pocket
And feel the weight, iron locket
Tugging the cloth from my chest
To separate, peel back the past, what’s left
Behind is the Now, but I’m not in this
Moment, am I, thoughts vaporing, kettle hiss
And you say you’re sorry for the stain
You left on the shirt, like there’s a shame
In it, but there’s none, lover, friend
Because the redness brings me back
To those cherries, in their jars,
And for a moment I can
Occupy the ghost of those rooms again

Andromeda

It doesn’t scare me to read that the world is ending
It will not be my children
Or my children’s children’s children
That will see the collapse

2.5 million light years away,
Andromeda, you are the closest galaxy to my own
I’m the Milky Way,
And though we can’t feel it,
But I swear I can,
There is a pull between us and
In 4 billion years
We will collide

We have collided before
In the beginning
When all of matter was thrust together in
Beautiful chaos
And our elements slow danced 
Before the great fission,
The concussive Bang,
And we scattered

Now we are not one body
But two

I’m not afraid of the imminent collision,
Though they say it will be the end of ends
Of our world
Because it comforts me
To know that across these soundless
Black distances
We reach out with unseen fingers
And though they don’t interlock,
My fingertips hover beside your own
And I smile to think that
Though we move
As independent bodies in space,
There are unseen contours
In the fabric of space itself
That tug on our bodies
And pull them together

I don’t fear the collision,
The merging of galaxies
Because I can feel the heat of your distant stars
And they give me warmth
In this cold darkness
And I wait eagerly
And patiently
For the day that our hovering fingers
Collide again