doublethefun

Dawn still asleep, roll out of bed Don slippers, pour dreams from my head Into a teacup, go outside Wish on an eyelash from my eye She sleeps, the Earth; she lifts, the Sun The real work, it has not begun I'll cross the steam like yesterday I'll mend the fence, I'll stack the hay And come home like the day before And hang my coat upon the door Then from that teacup take my sleep For I have promises to keep Tomorrow once again I'll find Serenity to go outside Rebuild the things that I once broke With raging hands, lungs dark with smoke Yes, tomorrow will be the same The same, the same as yesterday Tomorrow I'll be brave

smooth, smoother in the rain slick meditative mosaic closed-eyes, curled knots paper-peeling legs long and low in the lake spindly in the swamp cranes creeping between we can make good homes soft green sweater (in any weather) why won't they call it skin mine is too thin what i would give for those whorled knots that cracked armor those thousand arms to hold up the moon I'll make do with my two with my soft pink skin and my dyed cotton shirt place my hand on your heart and realize it's just the hollowing of a woodpecker

"liminal" we dreamed, once, of sanguine streets in cloud cities– our wonder wandering, hearts on winds aloft, airy eyes surveying sidewalk bagatelles; limns of cumulus blooms like light wildflowers on a breeze: a swallow's song and sounds of sweeping cirrus streams. recount the softly spoken summer days, i, the rain, your reticent plume, enthralled under these eaves of poetry– unmoored, your magic in vapour; no pangs at the mention of certain meteorological events. your magic whispers a wind, sail us wherever you would like to go. i can still see the contrails we left, feel a lingering warmth of the time we spent, fading. you can't collect clouds, though i try just the same. to keep this one pure thing that was salient, until at last i can't remember your name.

this time i offer you coffee before we disappear too far into that other universe that starts forming as soon as your smiling eyes meet mine and we walk through the snow to a safer place to lose track of time, of space. this time we descend, cross- legged, onto the floor, knee- to-knee, as if to postpone the inevitable, the only indication of time existing the music quietly playing, wrapping us up in the clingfilm of that universe, just the size of us: 'love, love is a verb, love is a doing word', and soon we're melting into each other, only letting in as much light as we may need to see past skin, see the wordless words underneath and then we fall asleep, deep inside each other. the sky is a soft red and i watch the clouds move to the rhythm of your breathing. somewhere, a child cries; like two magnets we pry ourselves apart, pushing each other away to give ourselves again to the world where time follows the clock and space is so vast there's no way to not get lost.