04-21-2018, 05:10 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-21-2018, 05:28 AM by RiverNotch.)
Soulmates
1
It does not, it cannot, begin with two.
The breath emanates. The soul,
diabolic, whores itself to the world.
The senses tense up.
God's contraction,
a game of chicken.
We were broken
like a stick of cherry wood
picked for kindling.
2
Now we're a tent, dry grass
beneath our mesh of fingers.
Sparks fly. Something surges
but I cannot name it.
Our arms crease.
Our necks crack.
Our guts spill.
Our legs snap.
A chestnut log steps into our dust.
3
I never lusted after you:
that was never the issue.
Perhaps we met prematurely,
perhaps I jumped the gun.
No, there was no issue.
Nothing happened between us.
I felt, I remember --
now there's an issue.
Now I'm hanging from a bridge.
4
It begins with two: two spots
of light, two bodies
under an arch. He passes
a ring to her, she pays with fruit.
The lights
will meet again,
eventually. The bodies
are not so lucky
but do not regard a beginning for an end.
1
It does not, it cannot, begin with two.
The breath emanates. The soul,
diabolic, whores itself to the world.
The senses tense up.
God's contraction,
a game of chicken.
We were broken
like a stick of cherry wood
picked for kindling.
2
Now we're a tent, dry grass
beneath our mesh of fingers.
Sparks fly. Something surges
but I cannot name it.
Our arms crease.
Our necks crack.
Our guts spill.
Our legs snap.
A chestnut log steps into our dust.
3
I never lusted after you:
that was never the issue.
Perhaps we met prematurely,
perhaps I jumped the gun.
No, there was no issue.
Nothing happened between us.
I felt, I remember --
now there's an issue.
Now I'm hanging from a bridge.
4
It begins with two: two spots
of light, two bodies
under an arch. He passes
a ring to her, she pays with fruit.
The lights
will meet again,
eventually. The bodies
are not so lucky
but do not regard a beginning for an end.