for Nima
I am much taken by one long
thumbnail a bright star on dark
water forcing attention toward Nova
so forgive if I minister
to or try beside the
distant thigh and mine
thumbs on various skins
stretched tight as if such
stretchedness is the purpose
of rivers for a night in wet
summer chaste as I am (of
currents made) breathing
into what attention means
in the space the small of
the back imagining thumbnail's
trace an ancient script in
darkness as is the dark as
dark waves spray the bow
flow upon me
flow upon me now
I beg
keep
bless
the wound the
burning
the thigh where
is
this pressing
still
just the thing
to talk of stars
baby seals play
now sun on gray
rocks wet
my head
tucks in
a niche
of stone
natural there
ages old to warm
to press the thigh
mine there too
that impress of
presumptions of
massive forces
compressing
into upon always
already decaying
things such are
the living sparked
imaginings
barnacles,
seaweed
I am not new to such need
I am not immune to the worry
upon my chaste
return sunburned
churned by the
Atlantic I will have
discovered a haunting
sound again
an animal
music of the air
the lungs
screams really
gulls falling
by arrows of
blue which
blue
saturate
sky and
sea to
learn the
heart again
to learn the heart again
avoid the narrows
at the island's end
where feet are easily
mistaken for doves
there large currents
beckon/compel them
to descend
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
my favorite lines- large currents beckon compel them to descend. a very surreal and beautiful write. please read some of mine. :)