Monday, January 14, 2008

Something Behind My Eyes

something behind my eyes
--and what is behind? veins?
darkness? nothing?--
something even more further backward
or inside,
and almost actually behind me
(chronologically also, such that
i grow younger with each successive
moment spent in your
merlin-like
presence of a
meek and ebbing fatigue),
this Unnameable transfigures me with its
otherworldly, pain-ridden sublimity,
and dares with a smile
to retain the sensation one more
whisker,
the holiness, the holocausts,
and suggests it likely that your own
tumbling honesty might well cause my
very slight frame to
collapse,
that the vibrato
which cuts most tenderly through conversation
might, without warning, explode
in tears withheld since
one long ago day on a playground:
all this and more is
how i would embrace you;
doing that which is undone,
unfolding that which is folded.

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