Tuesday, November 26, 2013

adulation in tangerine autumm

oh, how you know things,
things i never know
and how you share yourself with me layers,
while i
and whispering leaves
fall around you.

there are things in the rings
of coffee on the sill;
ripples smoking from the fire.
our house is warm,
you smell of cigarettes and mints,
and i love you, even undulating for a game
i will probably never understand.

i sit, curled and scribbling,
lost in a different screen,
not far from you.
the leather binding of the journal you gave me,
my writer's name engraved,
is heavy with thoughts
you urge me to unleash.

emboldened eternals,
my innards,
stringier and thicker and more blissful
than they've ever been entangled.

i have no words for the depth of you to me.
only descriptives engage my mind's crest
and i like the secrecy of my heart to my head.

pain is released for my masterpiece,
while my adulation for you
is for you
and you alone.

the room grows darker
as you greet me from the doorway;
i smile.
the blue opaque waits
as our hill combusts into tangerine autumn.

there is so much here.
it's cold out there.
i am hot and hungry,
the beating sweat of my fingers moves.
take me for yours, take me for keeping.


e. chayes