#distance

6 poems

eigengrau

the only way to ignore the sunrise is to close our eyes at daybreak

white light pours through delicate curtain lace— an unseen ocean roiling

more to see and to say as blue waves beckon, calling toward tomorrow

but no matter what we try, there’s no true darkness. light seeps in everywhere

the shade we find there feels almost ultraviolet; we see it together, apart

in separate beds, rooms on opposed coasts, we conjure the same cosmos

this color could be our own. when other lovers see it too, do they know we bathe in it?

108ºC

sunny side up eggs cook with sunshine denaturation begs, bonds across time

waveformed Q train park date prospects PascalCase names everywhere object

polycarbonate layers exposed gold livewire angel of gay prayers film stock, unexpired

bumblebee chapstick seeing in rainbows jet turbine fuel drips one port won’t close

nude

back then, i saw your body just on screens — pinpricks of light transferred across the line. soft curves and folds, i felt you in my dreams; those pictures, now, are burned into my mind.

and then i touched your silken skin at last, traced these lines with red ink until they dripped, gripped thighs while kissing slow, then hard & fast, embraced to warm the places we had stripped.

but now i’m separated from your touch, yearning for the ways we fit, like jigsaw pieces you never need to force too much. despite it all : i’m here. i won’t withdraw.

you’re nude before my eyes, no matter where. i’ll drink you up and leave them none to spare.

a⸺part

thin string between us stretching miles connecting our chests

tension we can sense tugging twine winding over land

we set it aside knotted tight when we’re together

the rope uniting us untying now because we’re home

we don’t need help to touch when we’re here

bioavailable

there’s always a question
when i come into contact
with the substance of you.
how much of you can i absorb?
when you enter my bloodstream,
swim my veins where they lead.
the longer your half-life,
the more i’ll feel you there,
coursing through my core.
the closer your shape
gets to nature, the better
i can fully take you in.
drink you or swallow you
or let you dissolve under
my tongue every day as
you transform me with
area under your curves.
when is my next dose?

atlantic
pacific

i often wake three hours before your sunrise calls for a response logbook already soaked with ink we laugh, but even if we could, why constrain our outporings?

one winter day you ask for notes on undersea strings aware of both the timbre and tempo of these songs we start signing together

i fall into an evening rhythm talking and yes moaning into the phonograph, my head then swallowed by the brassy cone our voices sound better inside

when you open your ears again there’s so much weather to hear : wind and rain and quiet calm that lasts too long and means too much we keep sailing even without a map

true, land divides us more than sea, but these two coasts call to us both maybe it’s the sirens or the sounds of wavecrash against the shore — the dangers of unfathomed depths