March 2013

His Body a Blossom

A visual dessert, says the host:

a bowl of flowers in water.

 

There’s a parallel history with

slight alterations, says the host:

 

a boy standing in the coral dust

who smells of dirty river.

 

Who thumb-shuts the eyes

of the dead?

 

Who finds someone

to love more than himself?

 

He will, says our host, in a

parallel history, his sun-kissed face,

 

his leonine hips, his body a siphon

for the light.