i don’t know,
but you’re like
the clarity
of water — beaker
of translucency,
transparent to the pines
and hills
of my tuscan
vision: your
renaissance
eyes — da vinci
figure in red
chalk — drawn
before
he broke
the glass
of water.
like water,
you bend
the elements
of my vision —
two echos
off red river
walls…
or, so reality —
as i might
know reality
red
clarity of my
image of you
this sunset evening
far from
where you talk
with friends,
the empty glass
upon your lips.
II cobalt blue
far away from you,
there is a magic
moment of you
where i am two people…
your hand on my chest,
my heart,
your heart in mine.
far away from you,
in that moment
of being you,
when i’m no
longer gray
and cold
and only me,
i kiss you
kissing me,
see your eyes —
my sparkle blue
stripped
diamond pure
in scattered velocities
of crystal black —
i miss you so…
yet, never left you:
never joined,
our being ever only
mine as mirror
of a golden sky,
minor
universe,
one half
of night.
III burnt umber
you draw
the line in amber gold,
i draw pale green
around
your finger…
faggot tracing
of your memory…
green for amber
burnt
in mirrors,
umber browns,
green vivid
blues and blood thin
amber,
red of summer
meadows.
i grab the earth,
hold the dirt
of grape and plankton
fossil tissue —
build a mound
of amber orange:
translucent tomb
decayed to umber
in the quiet dark.
trace your name
into the earth,
i draw the art
and love
and umber-figured
you were never
there at all.
amber sparkles
in the dirt,
my faggot soul.
IV chrome yellow
all the edges
of sand
in shallow water,
earth’s ripple —
movement over waves —
have turned
to water.
all is liquid
and colored
red ochre…
forest fires
blaze bright,
consuming
lesser motions;
all is fire,
casting color
on the pale
periphery of
ocean.
water of life,
water joining
boy and girl —
chrome ochre
chest and arms
claim precedence
of love and yet
is told as colored
water:
caustic yellow,
chrome identity, boy
and girl.
chrome yellow hair,
chrome
wave
above the sea,
blue shadows.