a mix of awe and hunger
a taste of future. undoing. collapse.
i look for something like you
around every corner
through bookshelves
amongst the
crooked, queer and radical
plants and animals of this scene
and you
you stand out like sculpture
like a bomb
like the storm amidst the calm
like bleached rocks along the shore
you mark a chaos
expected
then ignored
you mark the landing place
of a seed
far from home
we could touch the way
tangled branches grow
we could weave around each other
like butterflies made of dust storms
wanting better than now
and more than later
knowing crumbling could be something
more substantial than solidity
we could tear this down
and dance laughing through graveyards
of repetitious histories
we could tear this down
with our roots wrapped together
through the winter of its last resort
we could be each others' food source
like ants and aphids
like the bromeliads of the canopy
like moonshine and owl feathers
we could tear this down
with our roaring orgasms
our perspiration
our respiration
our exhaustion
our mellifluous surrender
could season fields of wild bees
fields and fields
such that their flight would turn sky to darkness
to conceal our brewing storm
because we do not love now
we love next
we love the struggle
of bones and flesh
stone and water
we love more of less
more revolt
more paradigm-shift
more shatter
rattle
clash
more of less
our sexuality
could rewrite cityscapes with fingerlets of desire
could undo highways like buckles and cries
i'm going to do it anyway
i'm going to tear this down
i boil hot enough on my own
and you could freeze pavement apart without me
but don't you see?
together we could level loathing
grind down museums
spread their dust with tornadoes
until everyone knows
we could chew up currency
spit out need and necessity
you and me
so much more than
you
or me
we could tear this down
but first
you gotta kiss me
this poem is for someone. i think it might just be clear to only that person.
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