Bodiescape

Kelwyn Sole

The foreshore of night –
and our bed has become a ship sinking
so that we may again try to drown,
so that afresh we can stare at our dreams
before they happen
face to face.

Day merely foreshadows night.
I wait breathless for the time of owls
the time of invisibility the space of wizards
where the world becomes a palm encircling its own wrist
when boles of trees thicken
until the garden blunders about among its own roots and branches
and shadows stand upright and draw closer
to windows out of which we
no longer care to look.

I dream that our bed is tossed by waves a dinghy
foundering till there is no hope
of rescue I dream of furtive sea creatures
I dream of my palms encircling your waist
I dream of the ever-slipping landscapes bodies shape
each in its need in demand for its other
my vision tilted your face hidden behind your hands
you cannot reveal how the clouds darken where you are
your nipples rub across a horizon of cruel mountains
you dream the sky will rediscover an immensity for you
if only this once.

You are the shyness of flames blushing
but finding no cause to falter
they gather strength they start to dance
you are just the other side of my eyelids
you reappear when I open them

once more you hide your body between your hands hoping
I will look there for you

and then I do.

LitNet: 31 January 2006

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