HOME | DD
faenum — Baking After the Sundering
Published: 2010-01-28 19:46:51 +0000 UTC; Views: 81; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 3
Redirect to original
Description
Three days, and I was a soft bleached thing again.Sinew like braids of grain, impressionable
down to the bone and brushed with flour;
my ribs rose in the heat of air stuck solid.
For the sake of a particular image, I would tell you
that air was sweet, and smelled like the clean
of your body-gasping into sheets so early
in the days after you were gone,
was again the kneading of your hands:
By breathing you up, I inhaled form.
You being here was leavening to me and you made shapes
with the insistence of your grip,
with cosseting my lips, making me smile.
I can smell you here still, you are palpable, you are real.
But we have bred too much for me to lie to you.
In the stagnancy of that room, I let layers form
only of nicotine, old clothes and languish.
It was not a place of cinnamon and butter.