• filling a mouth takes nothing but words, however empty;

    now mine is filled with saltwater, strong dark & deep

    so long have I listened, loving your voice:

    a lilting of falsehoods; and following close

    to those words. now I know what your mouth always told me were

    the loveliest stories, nothing else & nothing like pale cold reality,

    but deep as I am now, there’s no other choice.



    see, i was led wrong, love

    and not by words upon a page, though books hold lies;

    no, I was swayed by pretty gems so gleaming with all i thought just—

    and was I so wrong to hope for the best?

    such gems of words, such thin-cloaked speech

    from lips I’d thought spoke only true to me.

    from such a throat--

    & should it’s voice tell me I’ve wings,

    so soon I’d jump,.

    just so I strode into the deep.




    eat those words off sinning lips--

    those words are yours, those lips are yours;

    and though lies riddle pages,

    paper holds words but owns nothing,

    no thoughts of its own, of which to speak or write,

    no tongue or hands or pen besides

    of which you have all.

    your mind holds words in thoughts like ink, but paper hasn’t heartbeat or blood.

    spidered over with less-than-truth it may be,

    but the writer is needed to make it so.

    your mind is yours and full of thoughts--no innocent paper--

    so it knows every nuance

    ‘twixt illusion and life.

    you knew those words you knew were lies, gave them all names &

    called them up for me.

    you spoke those words, that singeing ink,

    aloud and made your lies to breathe.




    so writ across with age and years, while still the skin around lies smooth.

    bright surface clear, dark down so deep:

    these are

    your eyes, naught lacked in youth, while still you play such games with Death.

    so laughingly you toss that head,

    your crown of curls all bronzy-black.

    no king would scorn such workmanship,

    white-gold mask made by a master, molded

    with wild-handsome features contrived to laugh & cry at merest will;

    throat versed in making kin of lies and truth

    on shoulders held oh-so-straight after you dropped those weights you’d

    rather have others bear

    (lest in time you’d stoop)

    so to stand always straight and strong on

    feet to dance or leap or kick--

    love, I remember how dogs ran from your path.



    because your eyes sparkle, they

    they all believe you;

    the skeptic loves your voice,

    as I do.

    I know the things you glimmer with;

    you are the sea, & it

    sparkles like spun-glass and sunshine-mirrors glinting from its surface.

    and I know now that the shine isn’t true, I know&ireallydo, but

    because it sparkles I’d dance right in, skip on until my feet lost sand and

    spring tipsily on even then, on and in, love;

    I’d fall all slow spinning like the motes of silt around me,

    breathe your sweet

    your burning-cold and salty mind.

    & the words there

    all water so full of promises of air, so syrup-sweet

    I’d breathe deep, breathe in that air

    --and drown.




    darkness like depth becomes you, my love.

    fatality loves darkness, though some things may drift: your mask all glinting

    and lips I’d kiss and trust to never-ever tell--

    your tides may shift them now.

    love, all's shifting, & where are those comfortable lies you so freely gave?

    even in half-light your eyes are too hungry,

    & the tide’s going out, I’m still falling, deeper-darker-down

    love.