Her blue dress is a silk train is a river
is water seeps into the cobblestone streets of my sleep, is still raining
is monsoon brocade, is winter stars stitched into puddles
is good-bye in a flooded, antique room, is good-bye in a room of crystal bowls
and crystal cups, is the ring-ting-ring of water dripping from the mouths
of crystal bowls and crystal cups, is the Mississippi River is a hallway, is leaks
like tears from windowsills of a drowned house, is windows open to waterfalls
is a bed is a small boat is a ship, is a current come to carry me in its arms
through the streets, is me floating in her dress through the streets
is only the moon sees me floating through the streets, is me in a blue dress
out to sea, is my mother is a moon out to sea.
I won’t be forgiven
for what I’ve made
from my hooked kisses.
Pines turn their backs
on me. They know
what I can do
with the wrap of my legs.
when the air becomes crowded
with want, I set all my tongues
To quiet this body,
you must answer
my tendrilled craving.
All I’ve ever wanted
was to kiss crevices, pry them open,
and flourish within dew-slick
How you mistake
And if I ever strangled sparrows,
it was only because I dreamed
of better songs.