Monday, December 20, 2010

Three Conversations

Your hands are incorruptible
ice in fire, orbs of burning gas in
the frozen expanse, wells.
Oh thirsty soul, why don’t you let me?
Don’t shrink in

Sea-deep— Be good to me and give me leave.
My flesh is bigger than these hips and knees. The flesh
is brain and eye and hand and tongue, and love