A line cast, a hope followedMonday, November 07, 2005
i.
"I'll burn the hotpads"
He warns the woman
(the one he has transformed
into a conflagration of desire)
As if a little scorched fabric
Could damper this flame.
ii.
Below them a flowing wet blackness called Willamette
Above, cables stringing pavement to milky sky
Sucking her fingers into his warm mouth
A bridge of heat carries them
Between river and stars
iii.
Slowly drying skin
Arms loose, outstretched; languid
Together unfold like the wings of a sunning cormorant
Drenched from diving a shared inky darkness
To chase that silvery fish
Which darts just beneath the surface of the flesh
"I'll burn the hotpads"
He warns the woman
(the one he has transformed
into a conflagration of desire)
As if a little scorched fabric
Could damper this flame.
ii.
Below them a flowing wet blackness called Willamette
Above, cables stringing pavement to milky sky
Sucking her fingers into his warm mouth
A bridge of heat carries them
Between river and stars
iii.
Slowly drying skin
Arms loose, outstretched; languid
Together unfold like the wings of a sunning cormorant
Drenched from diving a shared inky darkness
To chase that silvery fish
Which darts just beneath the surface of the flesh
