Covalent

Voice broken morning
takes the night home
to silk; where,
from the dew,
beaded dreams
mine diamond words, each one
to inlay a white gold necklace;
a smooth ancient turquoise stone
a dirty centrepiece; it might take
ethanol grain, or white spirit
to liven it up, leave it soundless,
clean, an empty surface touch;
though this would not
please her: she,
already flammable, C2H5 -
OH - intoxicating exhilarant,
fuckable, and...solvent;
for an evanescent woman, this gift
must sparkle
in the daylight of a million stars;
the steam, spit, and the polish
of a soft chamois, loosens the tourniquet
of grime on the stone's dusted veins,
and there, I am, to reveal strong charcoal river lines
bedding lush emerald meadows; slivery pathways
marshalling petal specks of coral,
spittle rimming the edges
to a delicate filigree clasp;
steam, grit, the power of breath,
and golden flecks abound;
I wake, the diamonds already inlayed
to catch the dark olive of her eye,
take volatile oil, essential,
to make the glitter for her thighs.
I am a jeweller of her arms, gold dust on my lips,
lucid, transient; and heralding C2H2 -
Oh...acetylene; intoxicated, explosive,
fuckable...and solvent;
vanishing......where I was,
covalent, a voice
broken, morning
taking the night home
to silk; where,
from the dew,
beaded dreams
mine diamonds from her hips,
each one to inlay
a white gold necklace.





28mar07