Space Stuff–poem draft

Count the cloud fall of skies in peach cobbler erupt. Star stuff and space dust sink me to sleep: the slow soak, tender skinned give in of fog to the dawning horizon. All that water shaking dizzy in the nitrogen heavy molecule of sky. I swim big displacement, leaving plenty of leg room as I swan dive into isolation. but I am thick with muscle. I, magic lipped, steady bend away from lament, I lap up the steady celestial spill. My lips burn up with holes, burn up with the collection of constellations of tooth flesh imprint. Cherry gummed with moon chalk teeth, I sing the vacuum of dead space: my silence gorgeous.

 

revisions to be included in manuscript–new working title:  Moon Tides Sing Violet Petals Worth of Ghost Waves.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s