downwind from skinned

when you look at me
the molecules

of my being

are disheveled and rearranged
into a frenetic movement

of primordial and philosophic longing. 

The slight of your stare,
the curve of your mouth
distracts me from the cranial crash of
alphabet soup known as language. 

I falter in the light of your power,
the disarming delicatessen of

tug,

pull,

crash,

fall,

rise,

swell,

attack,

retreat. 

I contract,

e x p a n d,

swell,

and weep

in a small,

silent,

dry

manner that leaves me

puckering,

a parched, shriveled lime

with seeds gaping inwardly,

a fig once ripe,

frigid with freeze burn,

cold and tasteless,

for you are the crocus on another lily’s leaf,

floating on the sea salt roof of the world,

far above the valley that consumes me,

a      slow      savory      destruction.