Galatea in the Morning

trace a nest of moss

                            ô neck of loss

                            ô wrist of the glinting faces

let me t’race a pterodactyl down the curve of the spine of   you

                     lean in the wind of the flesh of the mind of   you

       wring lips from your words     sp’ring   nestle   axle

    a t’wist of light shock

& s’lip the rhythm back over y’our shoulders

            a leg   plays accordion

       in

y’our voice

                     you see

how the gap is like muscle

       squeezing the atoms

              against in the ether

i have severed a symbol for you not to   be   here

                                          all that tis left to here

                                   loss & a rhythm

a mastodon freezing in faraway climes

& you dear a breath on my mirror of flesh

                     the night who gave birth to thee

              creeps from y’our honeyed eyes

       and so a sigh of    separate

       and so a sigh of    never went

you bend your arm & fireflies leap from y’our pliant veins

                                                                 omniscient grains

                     ô lip of residue

                     ô ear of eluding voices

& this    tis the last paean to the night we love

& this    tis the first paean to the trembling savage text of you

    & even your clavicle whispers my spark

        brushes a smiling snip over my bark

            bursting its growth toward the bruitist sun

                bashing the clouds

                    budding & yellow & sloshed on the words of you

                    nestling a sp’ring against vibrant complaints

                w’ringing   or words   from a shadow   then faints   or

            pressing a wing into moisten of cool sight

        & pressed against clamouring amorous light

       ô skin of flight

       ô chin of contagious musings

& this   tis a departure from a chamber of dust

& this   tis an immersion in the raging s’wirl of ink of you

                                   eddies round y’our arches

       f’lush in the arms in the drifts of the dreams in you

   spindles weave glorious contraptions     or y’our h’air

       night fades brittle like clouds for your lashes you

          stretch in a shout & air rushes y’our throat dear

             a voice who rings bells & sings   zip   crinkle   rattle

                awake   the night draws back   gasp & cower

             a kiss & a kettle

          the light shrieks a song for thee

       em’brace me s’agely with neolithic eyes

a world awaits discov’ring joyous noise   & you

       know a soaked symbol shall sink into tar

           yet words float whizzingly   sparking y’our skin dear

-Olchar Lindsann 

published in an earlier version in Puking Trolley: Love Songs of the Leper, Luna Bisonte, 2007.