At the peak of my pendulum I
felt the flash in your soft, indefinite
colored hair. And your lips burned
at the corners (I could tell) where
the spittle had leaked out of your con-
temptuous smile and froze.

The phoenix left your throat as you
yawned wide your facial chasm
and streaked into space like quick
fire. For a moment I hung at the bottom—
inertia is not—and saw the meaning of
your burning song in my ear, the nuance
of your vocal penetration.

Wet sand on my feet, friction melting
me like glass and then I stopped and stood
under the blue fluorescents and glanced at
you: male form in relief against the green-red
diamond field. I said “let’s get some nachos” and
you laughed, not understanding. You paid for them.


Anonymous
07:58:08 PM