The Moment And The Speed

So I fell asleep with Sgt. Pepper playing

and it drifted through every song until

it reached its heart-attack crescendo:

that ending that strains, mounts, swells

against itself; it lurches,

slouches upward, rises and rises

upon its rising until it finally—

resolves.

That note, and its moment,

remind me of your name

unspoken, on the edge of my lips,

here in this haze of half-waking.

And the beginning of your name begins

the path of pure yellow light

skipping across autumn-brown bushes,

the rising green-smelling Spring grass,

or the thorny range of Winter branches…

Fields of time, slow like a rolling wave

across the brown-blue spread of ocean,

and I am the waves that crest in the air,

there’s no moon, and I am pulled

by you and you alone, with your force;

and then you pulse like a radio transmission

that sputters out into space…

My body, my breath feels warmer than before

as I have taken in your air-less heat

like a creek rock in the Summer sun.

And you are a glowing lens to the

force of desire, that crescendo:

your lips on my neck travel

faster than my thoughts,

faster than my apprehension—

superluminal.

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