you are making
you, a small child
in my pond,
& wait until
there are things
want to be
i could be
sea of wheat
couldn't find this one so i had to write it out:
"As though touching her
might make him known to himself,
as though his hand moving
over her body might find who
he is, as though he lay inside her, a country
his hand's traveling uncovered,
as though such a country arose
continually up out of her
to meet his hand's setting forth and setting forth.
And the places on her body have no names.
And she is what's immense about the night.
And their clothes on the floor are arranged
[Li-Young Lee] from "Book of My Nights"
"and she is what's immense about the night"