Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Old notes for a sonnet

have stared and studied love
Squinted and marveled and made all my focus the little elements and large motions 
Of 
But in my memory*
All eyes
All feet
All kisses
Burn one flame*

Melt in the flame of my memory to one

Grotesque amorphous body barely seen
A waxing monster in the shadows 
Thighs
Where lips are looked for 
Or a laugh
When the back of the neck is sought 
No hair
Until hair is conjured
No hand to hold
But a hundred hands together
When hand is spoken
Despite my memory
I long for you
Ever surprising comfort
Refuge from the haunting
Of your *own shade

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