Thursday, July 29, 2010

A Fleshy Temple

Your eyes say something
I am going to the store or the beach
into surgery or the madness of breathing
in space, so you can touch the same
air with your lungs as mine have touched.
Filling up an apartment with water
long enough to float from room to room
an air raft built of muscle that pops
silver and helium. I am drawn to you
as a hand is built around an itch
for that singular purpose
I motion you in but you are ready
your thoughts are in books
and I am reading them on the phone
to anyone who picks up on my desire
to walk on air casements above litter
and the repulsed carriers of bliss.
Not so remote anymore, not so fast.
Where is your hand?
Oh, there it is. I'm going to call you
before I catch the bus.

2 Comments:

Blogger Hannah Miet said...

You capture things in a strange way I can't explain.

Like you capture the air around the things, or the feelings that make up the feelings.

I don't know. I love this.

1:08 AM  
Blogger Todd Colby said...

hey, thanks hannah!

8:23 AM  

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