Soon otherwise

The body is a share of soul, sifted to salience by the host of senses.

Its densest members, enamel and bone, the dead’s delegates.

Carbon chains dehisce and drift on ancient riverskin.

The moon shifts in the soft night, loose as a tooth.

Here is your own mouth: it is the ancestor drawn from the air it fed on, drawn from the sea.

Lust and fear and grief unweave its harmony.

Here are the muscles loomed across your knuckles, forming as many dimensions by their grasping.

Desire hastens change, abandoning its hands.

Humanfingers like a tireless spider fabricate the artificial world from the world spoken of atoms, grafting made and born.

Nothing lasts if you focus on the edges.

Will the whimsical air remember my shape beside you, atom-by-atom, like an endearing habit?

Here is your dwindling skin, impoverished by its openness: expressing oil, tears, sweat, clouds, milk, experience.

The body’s worth is its poverty.

Here is your soul: a grand silhouette, unending passage for the body’s arrival among the respiration of plants and ghosts, their contagious laughter.

Stay by my side, soon otherwise, like the shadow of annihilation, revolve me, resolve me into the blue.

If information is difference, knowledge is erotic: pure as the drink I want to sip from your lips.

And eros is erosion, and I am the cove you roar into.

To leave me is to part with your own touch.