i gravitate towards larger souls
souls that pull with invisible strings
those heavenly bodies that’ve drifted
too close to something bigger, something grander
she is the storm. she is on the inside of
me. a blister to the veins and a wound of
the heart. her smile will break you, should
those beams of Sunday afternoon sun
break curves around the magnolia and shine
like diamonds on her glistening lips. they
part, clumsily and you are broken. less than
a man, bewildered, and uncertain of those
lovely things once known. fret not, good sir,
for in a daze you shall recover the precious
thing that was lost. it came to me in a dream.
most precocious, she alighted at my sill. elbows
delicate and pressed gently against the dark soil
of the window planter. the pansies froze with delight.
such grace, none of us had seen before. she
stared through me, her gentle finger tracing
figure eights in the black dirt. “Would you come with me?”
she quizzed as nearby swallows ran up in suicide bombs
towards a crow, faltered too close to mother’s nest.
my attention wavered but for a moment before the
sharp corners of her mouth stretched over ivory cheeks.
such beautiful mystery is a face so fair. throat dry
and robins nesting nearby, i met her gaze, less than a man.
less than me. lower and lower and lower i felt the weight of
me sink deeper into me, until i was pulling myself down
into the darkness of me. but still i met her gaze. and
steadying my self, feet planted in air, my face rose to hers.
mouths only moments apart. eyes locked in soul stares.
my hand found hers, fingers gritty from the afternoon
soil. through time and space and Georgian air i closed
the gap of infinite smallness between us. and as my
heavenly body collided with her larger soul, i was birthed.
brother to the constellations. my lips found hers. broken
yet breathing i opened my mouth against hers.
death. sweet and lovely.