March 19th, 2010
making #12: brush away dust
I visit
the threshold
of our bedroom
while the boxes are still taped up.
An archaeology of
rough, shifting monuments
nearly recognizable shapes.
You resurrect
civilisation
while my heart
stalks outside
a detained tourist
in this uninscribed
new world.
March 17th, 2010
making #8: square
Inventory:
the pale sun
that the curtains
can’t quite block
and your neck
your face
pulled under the blanket
like a turtle;
the hospital corners
unkicked at the bottom
that we won’t bother
remaking
tonight
and my hair
curled around
snagged on the bedhead;
your day-old stubble
and my rough path
along your jaw.
Our drugged whispering.
Everything sinking within
this deep square bed
from head to foot.
March 16th, 2010
making #5: burrow
I felt it first
pulling
my dress back on—
the change
of the seasons.
Heads back
we gaped the scent
from your ninth-floor balcony
May nights
trailed with foliage
crushed in the cooling west.
Our bedroom hibernation
now a welcome escape
as skinny-fingered winter
piles blankets on the bed.