Woman, Then

Holding on to little pieces of memory
  until she could construct
  the perfect image. Feeling
  the volumes of night, hands
  on shoulders. Nameless men touching  
  different parts of the story
  for her to reconstruct later.





Meditations on a Statue at Faesulae

Frozen by what she can’t articulate,
  she’s replaced by an effigy.  Mouth-bound
  Angrerona, her finger at her lips
  for silence.  Language is
  no longer adequate.  All of this
  defies translation.  Words can’t
  contain what’s ancient & eludes meaning.
  The fear & anguish men believe
  she drives off, she suckles.



In a Breath

Your lips and mine defy language. 
  Breath containing emotion like aromas of home
  navigating decades to release weather.  
  Imagine phenomenon.  Lips think of
  places.  Hands and faces always need
  a gaze’s quiver to cradle
  our still sleeping bodies.  Gently,
  fingers react to touch.  Kisses
  waken draping legs at dawn, tracing
  outlines in the sounds of pleasuring
  skin. Kneel, with hips,
  kissing.  Climb the skin’s terrain
  with mapping tongues. 
  Feel meaning
  explode, breathing one breath.



Air

The art of breathing
  is acceptance of evaporating
  beauty, cautious
  of asphyxiation by angels.



Just a Terrible Angel

How dare you
come in here offering
  such beauty
  then giving nothing
  but silence.  Don’t look
  for the sound of my breath.
  I’m holding it
  just in case
  you’re listening.