standing on my head
in an impossible rain
of sinew lace
outside multitudes
dash in reluctant light across the gash of time
stretched like Michelangelo’s man
in the cross of the wheel
brown & yellow & dipped
in wax & lime
& gold seal & amber
scented caresses left to grasp
in bodies reposes
right in effortless clasps
behind necks of gold & diamond
rings of bones dense
wrapped in spiders silk
as I lay with the black barn cat
& tears newly wet
with the next breath’s desire
to shine in the moon’s corset
of grace.
I don't fully understand this, but I feel very comfortable with the not-knowing. The vivid noun imagery hooks my attention. At the same time I'm fascinated by the rhymes.
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Rereading it keeps revealing new thoughts and associations. With the final lines, I get a sense of understanding beneath language from the phrase "to shine in the moon's corset / of grace."