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Insect Letters
Undulating flagella swarm
the writing of this body;
the movements of this hand
shape insect figures,
split pods that click open
into a welter of words.
The meadow of a poem
speaks itself empty,
eyes and mind an inner hollow
that fills as you read—
letters linger, alive
beneath the river
of your skin,
recite your mouth,
eyes, fingertips. A little
chair underwater
wonders
how
optical minds
see time doubly.
The exoskeleton shell
of mandibles raises
its prayer to the rain
while lilies unpetal
themselves awake, conceive
their plans, fold open
into one small ventricle,
planetary walls crumpling
to less than a church.
We will always be
members of this distance,
written in the clockward silence
of our warm, watery birth. |
