Tongues

Climb on top,

and feel my systematic veins,

as they pump.

I walk through your body like

a first look at the sky;

I want to stream straight across

this glacier of a night,

to your door,

thousands of miles in milliseconds.

Take a different woman every time,

they all have my face,

my name,

they were all me,

in the suffering decline

of a tyrant's bent nose,

and you a fortress below.

Make them pant,

like I do,

lying tangled in the coursing torrents

of my own fingertips.

Let the violence of life collapse,

just for the length of a scream.

Words appear before me

on a screen:

"Go on,

do as you please,

oh, Infinite Being.”

 

Georgia Lundeen, from spare