Looming Upon the Horizon (i, ii)
ii
Some of what you taught me to remember
winter
our bodies pivot against the weathered air and creak toward small openings of temperature shuttle between disappearance and the remembered a carriage in a park or rusted cage for raccoon and muskrat when we set lose the lantern glass upon the dancefloor ruminations and music’s divestment radiant kits and clogs wild against the skin and bone banter the tents in the landscape the bruised bones of rusting trucks breached in the mud bodies ache-laughed before temples heliography and rhyme pressed hard knocking against something spreading our winters together between the wick and the dark zone of flame cadence whelp tongue-touch bruises in the duvets warm in their openings as we hung ourselves on pegs in the wall drying while stories slowly stretch from the beekeeper’s gloves and dismount into language and along the throats and spine of captivated tormented you
imprisoned by language a gatekeeper thirsts for tactile me and sockless you
author's note: this is part ii of the poeem Looming Upon the Horizon, the first part of which was publisshed last week
