You Open Your Mouth
You open your mouth and
I am gone again like
before I could walk, like
before I had anything but you
and this connection, gripped
in a violent spin, intimacy purging gravity
by free will alone, blood for food and food
tossed on a gravestone, seeding a graveyard,
lording triumphant over reality, more potent than
waiting for the streetcar in a cold sub-zero winter,
waiting with wet boots and uncombed-through hair,
like fruit that never spoils
or gets polluted with scented-hand touch.
You say destruction
and I am beating the light,
slashing the torpedo into
smaller precise devises of doom.
You say reconciliation
and I am beside you, planting
my vengeance like dead peeled skin,
like waking and walking
to the bathroom, leaving the dream behind.
You open your mouth and
you open a door to a feast
outstripped of butchery and good cheer,
outshining all but the lover’s volatile love pitching,
emerging, continuing, clear,
.
Copyright © 2020 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
.
.
First published in “Dissonance Magazine” October 2020
https://www.dissonancemagazine.co.uk/zine/2020/10/5/you-open-your-mouth
.
.
Published in “BlogNostics” October 2020
.
.
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
