Offering

Offering

Offering

the kindness of libation, lyric and blood

her endless notes left for me –
                                                                                   little secrets, graces –
                                          trills recorded on blue and purple parchment
to be lipped, tasted, devoured –

only essence remains –
                          its stickiness, its juice, its memory

seamless juxtaposition –
                               the brute and the passion,
                                                        dry of the bone and wet of the sea,
coarseness of the page and smooth of the nib’s iridium

I try and trace a line, a very long line –

                      the ink blots
                                                     as this line’s linear edges
dissolve and fray –

the capillary threads
                          gone mad
                                                      twirling in the deep heat of the tropics –

threads unravelling,
                             each sinew tense with the want of moisture
and the other’s flesh

there are no endings here –
only beginnings –
                                                  precious incipience –

translucent drops of sweat
perched precariously on her collar-bone
                                                                                    waiting to slide,
roll unannounced into the gulleys
that yearn to soak in the rain –

heart-beat shift
the shape of globules
                                                          as they alter their balance and colour,
changing their very point of gravity –

constantly deceiving the other

I stand, wanting –
                             wanting more of the bone’s dry edge,
the infinite blur of desire,
                                                                                                       the dream,
the wet, the salt, the ink,
and                                                                             the underside of her skin.