Your Eyes
For Matt.
A clear stream I am drowning—
winding through I am flying:
a humid glen. a red parachute,
Sapphire jewels and an orange life
gleaming under jacket cascades
florescent bulbs. over the falls, like the
Soft azure sheets siphon sun slipping
freshly folded down rusted gutters
in a linen cabinet. during a hard rain.
A cerulean vase I no longer
on top of an ivory struggle—drying
mantle. An ocean driftwood bones
view from the swaying in the air.
Maldives— The slick sharp of
Limpet shells in the smalt rocks
a spray of underneath me
white foam. dulling their peaks.