Archive | April, 2015

The Gallery of Night

10 Apr

 

I look

at photos of myself,

review every line,

observe my skin,

a reptilian coolness

hungrily reaching,

impermeably separating

me

from you.

I follow its journey

toward the thin angelic softness

of my grandmother’s

whispering face.

“I want to go Home,”

she says slowly,

our twin eyes

in joint accord.

I kiss

the slope of her cheek,

lilac veins and bare blood

nearly vanished

under pearled whiteness.

 

Is it just

that the skin thins

until we are no longer able

to hold ourselves

apart from the coveting Universe?

Do we dissolve into

dark ianthine oceans

of unconscious stars?

Like once

into a pine shadowed forest pool

we dared our naked love

to venture,

wincingly frigid at toe,

until we embraced a slow

surrender

to its cold envelope,

a deceptive tomb of known

unknowing.

 

Some say the eyes

never change,

their color deepening

like blown blossoms to the light.

But within mine

I see

a graceless unwinding glimmer

of the knowing of

too much night.

 

%d bloggers like this: