library poem 02: xl

[prismaticbleed]

I remember the instant that I found you.

The house was silent-- peculiarly and hauntingly so,
that dearth of noise that only occurs between the lightning-bolt and the voice of God.
that unspoken caution:
there's still time.

but the sun was silver through the lace-veiled screens.
the delicate iron grates to the backyard.
there wasn't a thought of weeping in that sky.
it was too quiet. too calm. too normal.

where was the thunder?

was it only this crashing hurricane in blue?
this secret wealth of garnet agony buried beneath silken scars?
(the moths will eat you alive, boy, remember you are dust)

lunatic. trembling hands. seeing what isn't seen.
there was something in the sink

(it's time)

CRASH goes my everything at once
pewter faucet-head stricken sonogram
rusty red splashed across ceramic green
sunlight but the doors are closed
(the doors are open, thrown open, the locks have been removed)

I can see you there.

reality inside of reality
reaching down with bandaged fingers to touch what was(n't) there

you were a dead fish in my hands, you realize
fragile and fading and falling to pieces
but alive.
alive alive alive
daring death to relocate
leave this depth, this cradle, this cenotaph of room
redefine what it means to seek ablution, to become the heavy rains,
to hold existence against all odds

and in one moment, one impossible solitary moment,

i found everything i had lost.