Dreams in the wood
I don’t remember who I dreamed of last night.
But my fingers are until now, shaking.
It’s like they’re crawling from shoulder to neck.
And the soles of my palm rest on a pulsating artery.
My blood boils.
And I know I’m a noisy cell in the world’s pale fabric.
And the fire on my wing changes the color of its flame.
by the mood of the weather.
I don’t remember who tweeted in my torso last night.
But I’m in the woods alone.
Hands pass on my waist and don’t stand.
The passing touches carve me out.
And I follow my heart into the cave of sighs.
The world’s chest is lank.
There’s nowhere for me to lay my head, so I throw it into the sea.
And the sea brings it back to me.
Hugs look like a wild wave.
I close my eyes and swim.
Although I don’t remember who I dreamed of.
But I remember you.
On the edge of your flesh.
I drew a luminous orbit.
I step into it in the dark
when dreams steal me.
When I dream.
I don’t know who lives in my body.
Who’s the salt on my lips for?
Who’s tracking the effects of your skin on the wind?
You look away.
But your luminous hands
Were breathing out in my blur
And they crossed like an eagle
I wanted it to be me
Between your ribs
So I spread my branches for a hug in the air.
And I received the whistling like a widow’s cemetery.
All my dead lived.
And all my phoenixes rised.