* * *

These petals taking command, the flower
pinned down and the work stops
-- your breath dragged back

where it's safe and in your lungs
hides the way each sky is named
ater the word for stone

for this small grave each Spring
the dirt adds to till suddenly
you are full height, your lips

defending you against cold
waiting it out in your mouth
-- they too want you to talk

to call them by name
say what they sound like
turning away, alone, alone and alone.

* * *

Inside the Earth an Earth
turning away the step by step
into morning -- you wade

against this undertow, each wave
dragging you back with empty shells
and dying alone -- you collect

a darkness till your hand
becomes the sun inside the sun
the slow, climbing turn

around her breasts, beginning
at the shoulders the lips
the thighs grown anormous

lifted star by star by a night
made from stone though you
keep hearing the splash

deeper and deeper, pulled under
to dry, open for these shells
already halfway through

-- you let the water think it heats
by itself, that your arms ran aground
were lost all along.

-- Simon Perchik