The Salt of my Tongue

The Salt of my Tongue


I've known you since then, 
stagnant water, since you left me. 
Now, I'll have to seek

refuge in other eyes. I am the valve 
you wear down, the man you loath.  
Your body and my body

speak the love they occupy,
the love that restores us unabridged
to what we are. We travel

with open skin, without calm,
blindly pointing the way to the rotten,
the ones who still long to live.

I always dig you out, my bone,
my ghost under the pillow, among men
kissing under poplars,

and women who need to penetrate
each other (a hopeless cause) 
to feel happy.

I'll be there, chased, a bat flapping
in each of my wrists, then you'll know
we'll never be so hidden we forget each other.