On sleepless nights
I stroll the left bank in sequined heels
My Eyelids heavy with smoky glitter
Among the art I find you
Your essence pierces my veins
Settles in the pool of my heart
Dim lights flicker their last warning in
the cafe where like willows we sway
To long forgotten love songs
Then you are gone never hearing Je t’aime
the only French I know.
Mark Spain Art
“Je t’aime, Je t’aime (lyrics by
Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin)
“I love you
Like a fool like a soldier
Like a movie star
I love you I love you
Like a wolf like a king
Like a man that I am not
I love you like that”
In my infinite smallness
looking out over the ocean
my limbs are albino snakes
basking in the sun and the heat
burns the soles of my feet
A treasure of pearls are strewn
like stardust on the shore
and a garland of lilac is tied
to nothing but my hand.
I am the universe lending life
to silent rock as the sun streams
down my throat where there is no voice.
The laughter of children rings
through honeyed coves where lost
lovers await the tide to
tumble them into the light.
Below my feet lies a carpet of
Jacaranda and my empty hands
carry no burden but love.
The sun has lost its domain
snow birds shroud the light
A handful of starlings quiver on
bare branches so fragile in fixed feathers
they could fit in the palm of a hand.
Suspended in frozen breath they sing
for the reach of an outstretched hand
clinging to a red-tailed kite floating
above snowy fields of wildflowers in full bloom.
I am a lone bird wheeling jagged edges
of ancient cliffs above the shallows
of a rough Dover sea.
My feathers gleam in the beam of
the lighthouse where gentle swells
pulse against rocky shores
where in dreams you held me tenderly like
I have abandoned the lighthouse
that seems to lean closer to the sea
waiting in vain at the tide swept shore.
The beam has ceased its search
still each time I pass I tip my wing.
cover the sky with your hand
the summit of your palm is the moon.
Your fingers are streams of stardust
sweeping across ancient dunes
or the slender branches of willows
gliding through desert sand
soft and sediment.
Your words sting like bees that linger
thawing like ice on your tongue.
The heart of every woman you have
loved lives inside me
the cracking bones of beating wings
resounding against fixed walls
whispers of moments come and gone.
Recall my eyes as time,
you have lived here a thousand years
In the mist of dreams
the touch of your skin is tinder igniting a flare becoming a flame. Your eyes seek out the savage in me. Here we are still lovers and like starving animals we devour each other with weak bites never completely consuming one another.
Nights while you sleep
my lips are so close I can
draw your breath in like an
infant at its mother’s breast.
I run my fingers down the curve
of your spine lean in to breathe
your smokey scent.
I have entered that golden part of you
immersed the sea that claimed me in
oceans of fiery sunsets.
When our hearts grow mute we will know
we have drifted too near the sun
art by Karol Bak
Browsing my journals
I am reminded of the past.
The door swings open
releasing sleek eels of memories
where I am nothing or at best
a trembling leaf caught in a spring breeze.
Do you ever think of me
find me in constellations pressed against the sky
or hear me in the sigh of an incoming tide?
I would seek comfort in the moon but I am
so trivial and he is taken by the stars.
In dreams my tongue is a crimson snake that
flicks hungrily along the length of your thigh
curling around the catch in my throat.
You are god and have named me regret.
I close our door with pried fingers.
I’ve given up on prayer hands.
Art by Rita Hardy