I’m going to talk you
to the edge of revelation, tease
one hundred grasping tangents
like anemone that sway
in purple seas.
I’m going to watch you
feel the heat of my attention play
on your assumptions,
till your hidden contradictions
lie exposed. I’ll treat them well.
We have so many edges, lips
that can be touched —
so many combinations
(my creative instinct urging)
in surprising —
in surprising —
ways.
What I do to you in
darkness triggers memories of
morning. Now the scent of secret places
washes over us
in waves.
Reading louder I
intone the words that boom
like milkweed bursting,
fill the air with sweet suggestion
till our wills lie
intertwined.
In the synapse, charge
is building, lightning’s grinding
clouds are clearing —
and contracting,
thought contracting to a single
iron core.
A tang is tasted — wait!
defenses throbbing
holding back the inspiration —
holding back — then fears and habits
lose their grip and
synapse foaming, information
floods the gap.
Let’s just lie here.
No more talking now. Just
wind in empty vessels,
empty vessels slowly filling,
slowly filling up with
up with words.