Friday, 28 June 2024

Butterfly Exits The Head






You come like a musical note.
You come like the crackle of lit Cuban leaves.
You come like a stab somehow missing an artery.
You come like from a bygone era.
You come like burning sienna.

I beat like a pen on a love letter.
I beat like barefoot on floorboard timber.
I beat like the next sobbed movement of my heart.
I beat like a detonator counter.
I beat like a flicker of burning sienna.

We will fall to our heart-shaped knees.
We will spill over-flowing froth from coffee cups.
We will show our teeth behind full lips to those we want.
We will see God wet with rain.
We will be buried with burning sienna.

Your eyes like changing skies above me.
Your voice like May flowers in a beastly wilderness.
Your body like a river winding through this religious land.
Your lips like lights of home.
Your hair like burning sienna.

Can I squirm like a contented cat under you?
Can I share that across room eyelash glance with you?
Can I watch you dress and buckle your shoes for you?
Can I do anything for you?
Can I come to your burning sienna?