Slicken and wish
quicken and trip
climb into it climb til I split:
ship gone to space
each star punching
its core through the dark
through the dark through
the dark through the dark
IT IS FALL, AND YOU CAN KEEP NOTHING
The leaf isn’t afraid. Much of her
is in the tree already. The mystic counseled
a practice of letting go, a teaching in two parts:
One, we are empty, climbing through
the dark, past the shatter of stars.
Two, each I contains all. We
are the dress strewn by the bed,
-until-gone, the still-here-in-the morning,
the apertures of my and your,
the hour of devour and the hour after, this you
I never quite held, this you I held until morning.
SHE LAUGHS INTO MY BODY IN THE DARK
My love, how you lit
my body. O body
how you think you aren’t alone.