two for Tuesday

Fingerpainting

This is how it begins:
There is a long cut on your shoulder
a canyon where I could
journey to the center
of you
and I can dip my fingers in
the Colorado River that runs down your arm
and leap with the slow waterfall
that drips from your fingertips
splashes of unintended graffiti on the floor
I paint your name on your skin
and mine beneath it
with a plus sign between them
But when I write
Do you like me, Y/N? over your heart
it's my blood you use to circle yes.

I draw one wing over your back
starting where the dark mottled bruise pools under your skin
like I've pulled the red from it up through your pores
a swoop of warm from shoulder blade past ribs to your waist
and back again
a brush up along your spine that makes you shiver
and your lips part against mine
Then you draw a wing on my back
on the other side
a mirror reflection, so together we're both pair and single set
and I don't know if you painted it in your blood or in mine
but it's hot
a summer lightning storm that's sparked under your touch
setting uncontrolled wildfires into my flesh
the flames fanned by your breath.

Your hand is still wet
from rain and from blood
when you rest it against my back where the wing is
and you whisper "I want to fly." into my mouth
Do you like me, Y/N? with the circled yes
is sticky between us as we press together
chest to chest
hand to wing, hand to wing
feathers beneath our palms
This is our circuit completed.
we'll paint the skies red at morning
we'll bleed the skies red at night.


(dvad 1-19-10)

*****


wordfind

I found words today
lying on the sidewalk in the dirty snow and slush
crushed under tire tracks in the street
trailing behind someone ahead of me who's talking
(like neglected pets or children)--
Bluetooth, you tooth, insane chattering to themselves
or to people only they see

I found words today
crumpled in my pocket with some notebook-ripped
scrap paper
and a penny, and my phone that I forgot to charge
when the battery died

I found words today
scattered over the desk
knocked onto the floor by the cats
creased and chewed on
and batted under the couch by flailing paws
until just out of reach in the dark and dust
I found them when I was retrieving the catnip mice and jingle balls
I've brushed the words off, blown away the fuzz
smoothed them flat
and am putting them here for safekeeping.


(dvad 1-19-10)