ECSTASIS

winding around my loneliness
the streets of a small town,
salting the graveyards
so that nothing can spring from the dead,
paleness lies down on the grass
and anoints the fallen crabapples,

I think of your hands folding expensive paper, a sitting room
materializes around my multitude of ears
that pick up voices you've left behind
and jet them over the harbor in a radio flame,
we're descending the seas already breathless

blooming shafts of crystalized light
into the mouths of each other's presence
among the sunken wrecks, we are wearing
the same clothing as the old hulls,
we're young in the water, we're young
in the water, we're young in the water