It was as if the tide had dragged me here, but it was him.
There was something different about the day,
I was not of it.
The angel took my heart and lifted it up through
my throat to heaven. I cried like pigeons, softly.
My mouth on his nipple, now motherless.
It was the mouth of the wind that rested there.
He was the only one who had ever loved me.
I never lived to see this moment.
The grass departs beneath my feet, flowers diminish.
But he has lifted me higher and cannot put me back.
I've been lost.
There is no climate.
My swollen cheek rested in the cup of his silken feet.
Even in this distant way, it was as if he would bring me back.
The cosmos had entered my body, its immense peace.
The world and all its history resided in my skin.
Was I really touching him?
He is my chrysalis, whilst torn asunder, I am now released.
My hair is tangled weed, which he parts and strokes.
My mouth is damp, a shut moat, mud lives inside it.
Yet he brings me close to him, and he is wonderment.
My arms around his shoulders as he lifted me, the humped wings,
his pale blue face, he's golden silver, like sunlit water.
Now folded in, how I have tried to return with him
to the city of angels, but I was faint and undecided.
Beneath the bridge, my dress faded in the water.
I was invisible, joyful.
Take me into your dreams, I slept in his cloth.
I kissed his palms, as if he was the messenger.
I heard the music, my clouded senses, this path was intimate.
The river brought me to this moment.
I have waited for it.
