Rhapsody
for Horn, or the Jeremiah Weeping Papers
I.
Treble
I left
the window open,
found
you
creeping through;
closed
my eyes,
red-rimmed
and buried
beneath
your
lips.
my ears caught
the
ghost of your pulse.
you pressed
your
name
into my ribs.
I
sighed a prayer
&let you in.
II. Overtone
I wear
you, a now-familiar
nightshirt.
you
caress
my left-side chest,
measuring pulse,
looking as if to memorize,
but you don’t say so.
Instead,
you wrap
yourself around me
our palms mirror
hands on hearts.
Wide-eyed,
I hold my tongue until
we share
the same space,
the same sweet
inhale
exhale.
you
wear me well.
III.
Rahab
You
slip beneath
the
curtain slit,
crawl into bed with
me.
I want
to ask you
how
you are,
but already know
the
answer.
You are
silver, streaming
into pieces, stashed
between the sheets.
Taste
of metal, my lips
catch
your
serrated edge,
bleed a little. You
carve
me open
kiss
the wounds until
we
see what hides
beneath.
Layered
skin
and muscles
pull away, reveal
raw pink insides.
I bite
my tongue
bite your lip
my
bruised flesh
begs your tender
misuse.
I press
against you,
seeking
to sink into your
bones,
melt into your
forever touch—
but
you are
bolted lightning,
brief
and
heated.
Morning
finds you missing,
my
hands clench
the space
you
leave
behind
IV.
Vienna
Wrapped
you
around
myself-
or tried to, anyway.
Wanted
you
to
be the binding,
one ripped
seam married
to
the other.
You laughed
at my clumsy fingers,
the
stitch in your side
loose.
You
kept
your distance.
Wanted
to keep my
pride,
but
I never
had talent for
the
mending.
V.
Adonis
I
looked
for
you today.
You were not where
I
remembered.
My hand
found
the cage
around
the fleshy beat
you
used
to
measure,
pried
away
your
name,
but
it
stained
my
palm instead.
I left
the window open,
prophet.
(Note: heavily revised)
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