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17
Novpoem I wrote for seminar. the spacing may not come out right, but I still like it.
Asymmetry
I was once in love. Like red on white
I spattered my heart for you across the sky
in a pulsing full moon surrounded
by residue droplets: stars.
My mouth went numb tracing the divots and bumps of your name so I tried
being quiet till you found me (always behind the curtains).
My love was not a blue-tinged early morning:
it kicked, it banked sharply and asked for more
or less.
And I was that jealous thing that hisses and whines
so I craved you like sugar in coffee
(or a side of cherries)
and I missed the empty spaces of your ears.
But you were once in love as well
and whispered to the worms about
sun rays on skin. A heat that is better
(than tomato soup) in winter, because it is inside everywhere
and not just your stomach and hands.
You fell into the curves of feet on feet, the points
of elbows, and backs of knees. Your camera
pleaded with me to be still or wait (anything, anything but waver).
You wanted to keep the moments like fireflies in a jar,
but they insist on flying and escaping their prison of clarity.
And your fingers were mountains eroding
down the keys as time sped
forward with the treble clef
Our ribs lay stacked on each other like
the pile of books that we kept in the corner and forgot
with the coming of the dust. And we twisted over and out
into hurricanes of sheets and hair
and a musty room that would not leave us
alone with our thoughts but
beat them into our brains with the pounding
footsteps of the upstairs neighbors. We rolled
ourselves in evening dew to wait for day and rot the floors.
So I sneered and you loved and you yelled and I loved
And we could not match our reflections
to all the mirrors in our house.
And we remembered how we used to lie here (and want nothing).
And we tried
not to look at each other.