Friday, October 29, 2010

And The Fever Left


Take off your mask
take off your jeans
let go of that kitten
and put your soft hands on me

Time spun you away one year
took me down
and then brought you back here

You are a Stranger to me
because of your sincerity
-- which I know because of where you don't look --
your words are a crown
for the weariest eyes:
(I'm covered in mud
compost skull
a head full of shit
familiar with fungus, I am close
to damp-death)

Your flickering, fading-full
your light, your life as a miracle and your absence of hate
was my last-second
unexpected grace.

You're not the color I was looking

Friend, you wrapped my wounds
in caution tape
and carried my broken body back to bed, where I just slept
still, safely.

I knew you were meant to be like that silver stallion
just a touch of sadness in his fingers
and with my weak breath
I breathed a prayer over you:
a thank-you so silent
I hope it heals you: still.

I hope your skin will absorb the truth, slowly,
like water and like blood
we can dissolve into the blessing
of a perfectly timed friendship.

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