Maxim’s I
The room I am borne into is
one of fairytales and frost-covered
clouds, and the sky points to
something that isn’t there.
Sleep arrives like a
blindfold and salt.
The strange cymbals of sound and
of hearts and diamonds;
the turbulence of all things
unsaid, the seas unstill.
As they sing—
The hero slays the chimera. She splits
the set of two, she swallows
the sword, and success, and success, and
nothing. She stares towards the horizon,
blue and black and barely brown in rising,
and swears she smells that same beast.
The wind whistles past until
everything is a river.
It rains here even on a
cloudless day.
Let me start again—
I miss the thoughts that I
don’t have. But winter shall run off
and good weather come
again. Every day I sew more thread
onto the tapestry of our life. For me,
red. For you, the color of Friday.
I want my love to stretch past the corner
of your ear, where it can live
in your hair forever and ever
until you wake to the smell of
my homecoming. A light flickers on
and off. I follow you until my teeth find tail.
When you see me tonight, please
know that I look away.