River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst
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
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,
to beautiful unadulterated disclosure.
Copyright © 2012 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “New Binary Press Anthology”, 2012