Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Possession






I am possessed
like an empty room is possessed
by its windows and doors.

I wake up
listening to Her breath

I no longer call it mine.

She has made room
for the sky in my small apartment.
My stuff

will not fit anymore
there is more living space now.

I hold onto Her
with Her own hands
mine have become

gloves.

We have a blood relationship
through the permeable membranes
of passion.

We are like creatures
huddled together in the night.
If they move too far away
their flesh goes blind.