Arro Sy

Always you and your rusted cellophane
stretched and drawn that the wind won't touch
curving faces battered by forceful
charm like polite branches suspended
in shadows
shivering and ringing white powder

Across four dozen rails, footprints
in clay and your face inside your hair
freckled brick enclosing you like a hand

the iron and sloping glass
a shifting amplified beneath woven cuffs
beneath pretty smoke
amidst the shoes filled up by other elsewhere feet
gravity is immense and you
the collapse that confronts cell
division, aggressive matter deflated
by the sting of the bells that you taught to me

clusters of eyes become plain and drawn and
white cuts colour themselves out of the ash
the same as the frozen light
the last of the words

the final edge that broke atmospheres
into silent drifting boats
two points and a river breathing
distance gazing ambivalence
and fingered silt molten
the inertia of melting things
and in nearness the fractal grain
the complete forgetting that are your eyelashes
and falling hands and sleeping maps
in the bend behind your knees.