Love is a Bloody Thing in the Dark

I keep faith in tangible things: the known
weight of bagged rice, ounces of milk,
the height of children recorded on doorframes –
my hand balancing time with lead.

Before the land was plotted, scored into square
footage, before rings were sized and exchanged,
we needed to see what was within: the microscopic
language of platelets, bodies fused together.

What armies sit dormant in our dark? What pathogens
did we welcome in our slow and steady march
coming that bloomed in silence without
lesions, whispers, or fevered sweat?

I'd like to think I know my body
and the bodies multiplied across my back.
We kiss and you
kiss them all.





From Another Way to Say Enter (Argus House Press, 2017). All rights reserved. Reprinted with the permission of the author.