Can I draw out a line
with enough viscosity
to envelop,
to cherish?
To illustrate the peace I’ve found in the reverberation of my own footsteps,
finally,
after being shown my echo wasn’t the only one?
O, oh yearning
for a letter round enough, wide enough
to contain the space we invisibly, silently, share
with limbs where we can hang tensions
so carefully crafted -- like lightening,
like static electricity --
between images with edges so sharp
only unpromised reception
driven by a distant pulse
can soften them into dreams,
feathers, things we can live with;
something tangible
for when we defy linguistics,
submerge in liquid sensation I cannot encapsulate,
wish as I might to gift wrap it for you.
(A thank-you the only way I know to the poets of E2 - and etouffee in particular - for taking the edge off better than any substance or ear on earth)