Monsoon

i'm always interested in names. especially what they mean, how they change, who gave them away. it tells you a lot about a being, i think. sometimes beings change to fit their names too, it's not ideal but it's quite curved all the same. some weathers sound like wings, while mine are just brown to the taste. not unearthed, of course. her's, however, is perfect. she's perfect. we tended the living field together. darkness came. kindness came, whatever. 

when the lights escaped, i thought i could probably crawl out of morning sleep and cajole them back. but for some reason i instead grumbled out of the dirt, whole bread aching, only to find shivers. a pure, lemon strand of heaven around my wrist. it's not everyday something like this runs about. i thought it was gold at first, but no. it was light. it was sweet.

truth is at that second i felt oceanless. all of a sudden - a subhuman boat on an infinite crest. could've sworn i heard a million tiny fireflies engage each other in combat, like i was moon strange or itching wrong or something like that. i suppose at the time i was just feeling thin, like a newborn or a scientist. but at last! i thought. a happy bivouac - which is not to say the mountain flowers were dusty and brown - but this, this was something else. the waters simmered in my skin, we could construct a field made entirely of triangles - maybe even a whole solar system - or press sky to sky and earth to earth and walk the entire crust of its spin.

i used to be a king - did you know that? i don't walk like it, but it's true -- i surveyed the ants, the worker bees. i told the hills when to get dressed. ask the elephants, they can attest. though to be honest, i never really thought about myself that way. i was a simple man with simple tastes. when we first met you probably imagined i was some kind of last dinosaur. which i guess i am, in a way. but anyway, i'm not a king anymore. i mean, i still am, technically. what i mean to say is that i'm also a goose now. a fool on the planet.

that night, the leaves were so filled with meaning i thought the moon would never come down. i don't usually care about when i wake up, i would amuse myself, collecting breaths but I'd never bother to count them or measure shadows, wouldn't think to long for light. once i met you though, a new part of me happened - from the very roots of my soles to the sink of my desire. before, i lived in the sea. now i had tasted fruit.

and since we're being good like greyhounds again i might as well not waste any more sound. i just wanted to tell you, without tangent; i just want - no - need you to understand how much i remember you. it's true. i have forever remembered you. since the hour i first glanced you - maybe even before then. i've remembered you. i think you. i will always be missing, wishing, cherishing you in glimpses, meeting you in wondrous moments. you, only you and always you, incurably you - i will spend my body thinking it, confessing it, whispering it into the worms and waters of my head because tongue will never be as fast as heart, will never survive the chasm of ears. how can i possibly unfold this - how will i ever find mouths great enough for my song. you are my eve, my blood and birth, my sun and dust, my daydream wonder.