Remember
the shape of heat.
Measure presence—
the slightest
bend in lash
& quick-struck spine,
the pressure of caress,
the pupil gulping wide.
Time no longer
a period
but pleasure—
pleasure a handless
clock the cooling alloy
begs for sleep—
sleep a sweet
new shape.
2013
love:
the weaving and threading of time becoming pleasure, pleasure thence becoming clock with no hands to tell the time
the pupil _gulping_ wide
seems the discipline of an April poem-a-day is resulting in some of your best work.
…and how wonderful is that..?