Poem/"The Opening"/Poetry Quarterly, Fall 2010

The Opening

we're breathing into each other,

our two bodies: spooning and forking

i think of the math that enters this:

        the air, the mattress ⎯

        of the geology contained in this moment:

        earth’s crust, sound’s waves

i inhale inside our space to astronomize 

that the freckles on your spine are planets colliding

do you recognize my language?

yes, but, you misread the text

              while the diaphanous morning light

              performs card tricks on the ceiling

they tell me a story

         while we move to the music 

               of doors shutting,

                        televisions in other rooms

         as i name each gesture, 

         identify each 

         flick of body,

     in this poem i’ll write us a language,

   compare you to weather

      i’m kind of a liar,

      i’ve forged your signature

all over my body


I just discovered you can buy this poem of mine in its anthology on Amazon. How exciting! I should start selling my poems online for 99-cents. iPoetry for your handheld iPoem.