Here and There
written by: Lori Marchesin
Here, you get the whole vision —
the day loses memory
and, legless, precipitates
in gasping reflections.
There, they lie, hugged,
instead of running away, they write
themselves on wetness, use memory
that speaks love language.
Here, light is closing
sky eyelids, teaches not to hurry,
summersaults among clouds, promises
a moon-door to tomorrow.
There, they paint time on a dim landscape,
try to skip the barbed wires rolled
around, feel stars will nest
on their shoulders.
Here and there, under all the rippling,
in the middle of the orange glaze,
they partake in the archetypal rituals
of mating, merging into each other, separating.
Latest posts by Lori Marchesin (see all)
- The Train Blues - September 23, 2024
- Here and There - July 22, 2024
- Armageddon - May 25, 2024