December 12, 2000: my nixie gown
ring around the moon
Ah, beautiful. I shall want none
but you, all my life long, and I will join
my mouth to yours and breathe. Unison
is a such a clever concept, we moving,
listening to the twin drums of our heartbeat.
Your hair tangles in my hands and I do not wish
to be freed. Russet against pale skin, your hair
is the last leaves fallen on a blanket of snow.
The knowledge of winter runs through me,
this sluggish partly-frozen river.
I shall want none but you.
And I release you.
I watch you go,
skimming away over the wild water.
This bone-cold clear night, all the stars
swing down closely burning cold
the music of snow sliding from branches
and somewhere the muted thunder
of owl wings.
I whisper
(I shall want none but you)
and you are gone. Absent
in a way that is almost like presence.
And almost
you are curled around my heart
like a moondog, shining icy,
never touching.
siren awakening
In the morning, I swim.
Plunge my head into the warm pool,
taste chlorine, flail my way
back and forth in my lane.
Shove myself from the wall
and travel a few yards before
angling myself towards the air.
I always imagined myself more graceful than this.
Somewhere, I am sure, I have left
my sylph suit, my nixie gown,
the armor of a creature
at home in the water.
Who the water moves slowly
towards inhuman beauty.
I fear I've lost all of the clothing
of loveliness and have to simply
make use of what was left
in the back of the closet.
I wonder whose body this was and if she will come back for it.
I climb out of the water.
The air dries me as I walk,
and I know I am home, that
this body is mine, no matter
what else has happened.
Bare feet on tiled floor
and my hair wet on my shoulders
as I walk, run, dance into
my very own morning.
I tell the sylph she can keep her suit.
I've got a better one, right here.
