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River – the song and the poem
River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst
https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/
https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3
https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648
The Poem:
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River
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I will run my breath across your eyelids,
go to you, trace the edges of your hands,
finding infinity inside your torment. I will
drift into you like wind and you will not mind
my lips like a concentrated shadow on your skin,
darkening but leaving no weight. You will let me
be inside your picture, a background to your lyrics,
softly at first, I will heal the red in the whites of your eyes.
I will release my wardrobe for you and you will be the mania
that I climb through to reach tranquility. I will
cup your flesh and stretch you through this intimacy because
I own you as you own me and it is not a bad thing, not
blasphemy or anything
to fear. It is your hands, mine – these
poignant burial grounds that have been excavated,
these days of standing close, depending upon the ease
of our mutual exposure. I will speak in your ear and you
will step into my voice
like stepping into a river.
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Copyright © 2011 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
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First published in “InnerChildPress” 2012
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Seamless – the song and the poem
River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst
https://dianebarbarash.bandcamp.com/
https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/dianebarbarash3
https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/river-songs-from-the-poetry-of-allison-grayhurst/id1293420648
The Poem:
Seamless
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Raincoats and rainy seasons are behind us now.
I picked up a feather.
You took it from me and now it is yours. And just like that,
rich as the coral reef waters, we were initiated into
a lower layer.
Intensity is a button. It is concentration – one part,
one of your parts unrelentingly explored
while ignoring other
distracting sensations. It is the thick blood
raking of thighs against our lesser faith.
Fears of the future put aside and left to their weeping.
Shoulders become secrets receiving
probing pressure-point intrusions.
Like a primeval working of strings,
through this communication, we see
the courage of our history rise, become an advancing truth,
and our pores
grow and sparkle like thousands of tiny sun-drenched ants
pooling together to parallel a single purpose.
We know ‘just survival’ is tyranny.
What we seek is not movement
purely for the sake of employment, but to create canvases
of vigorous struggles – ones that can only be cemented
in unison.
Our bodies have abandoned their blood-lines.
We are touching every crease
and tense design with undiluted intention –
first blotting out words, then delectable conversations.
We rejoice in the grand dramatics of our compatibility,
equally committed to corporeal immersion.
The past culminates in this single outpouring. It is
a privileged evolution. It is months of misfortune
exterminated by the exertion of our mouths:
Strange rhythms are risked, foreheads pressed,
giving way
to beautiful unadulterated disclosure.
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Copyright © 2012 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
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First published in “New Binary Press Anthology”, 2012
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