This body, a river splitting deep woods,a rushing babble over rounded pebbles.The doe lowering her head, takes drink,arching sinuous neck that reflects in ripple water.That neck in memory, fevered dreams -arching back and forth, hair whipping.Your knees bent alongside rising hips,this river splitting your fragrant wood.
like a cat... lithe limbed, long torsoed, strutting across my path, that glance... and I am caught up in your scent, musk, your nails like claws now digging into skin, bloody gashes along my back... fierce bites - half-moons rising along my shoulders, my breath in yours, backs arching... screams in alleyways, bedrooms boardrooms... you … Continue reading A Rapture
Ronald Mallett I know you as I know James Tate. And now, people known to me... Jess, Kevin, whipped through this same centrifuge. We are on the edge of forever. Know that we are running like gerbils, in this same recursive loop. I wish I could talk to you. That our running could intersect, and - perhaps … Continue reading A Machine, For Time