And then we were there.
Perched on the cusp between air and
gravity.
Curve of the handlebar pressing thighs as I
played girl and you,
boy.
Through shrieks of darkness
I sank into your chest
to nest in your stern; children
returned to the world.
And we spin cradled in an inverted hull
Low hanging ribs clipping
our skin; headlamp tickling the ground
where wheels crackle music to our whispered
trespass through the chancel
of someone else's club.
Distant lights of unmanned sentry
tree veiled until we enter
the nave.
Before us, sliced imperfection
the just-waning moon:
the font. Following along in reflected play
carving reveals of light, carved
in porphyry and time -
footholds in the rockscape -
Til naked we entered the nave.
Rough necklaces of an invisible garden played on our legs.
And there,
submerged, you lifted gently from around my neck
the umbilical anchor that
tied me to the Beast.
And love gasped at last.
Redeemed in the Sea.
Between sips of unholy water
our lips met and in shared breath
we conspired to youth,
smashed the bottle
and named this Fate.
The season turned us in her rocky hold
And we rode back to the sanctuary
where to the back beat of unsyncopated birdsong
you disappeared into sleep with a reminder
My soul is weary, I do not believe in love
and you held me in your long sea tentacles.
Sleep weary soul, I say
I will hold you in my belief,
voluminous
Chora of your slumber
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