Poetry

Show (off/and tell) – Poem

each time you appear
your eyes change colors.
i don’t know if i want you
to hear me or not.
you are my
chapel perilous, i collect hands
to hold near you.
your impact is drawn out
and wild
like Giacometti’s walking
away.  i pose
as a sequinned
pre-dawn favor:
electric fingers,
feathers from sand
the diary of someone
who died.  i need
to show you
nikola tesla’s resonant coil
bearberries, fresh–
thick with life, as you are
so you will see
through my skin.
i am a diorama truth,
a paperclipped inkling
from another time.
one of us is a heron
watching in the pines.
i have written the script
of desire lines
that you live.  twist me
into kaleidoscope, let us
look closely, see
more
than the surface
and skin.

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