Like a pomegranate with owl's dark disturbance

I boil water for coffee and I break the day with my eyes:
I silt by her watery eyes, and I want to collapse into the sun.
She lifts me high as water when she breathes
Little black wings flutter over us and smother
Then drape us.
I want to collapse into the sun.
If I could only collapse into the sun
And eye her water on the moon
Collapsing into the moon.
I silt by her watery eyes, and I want to collapse into the sun.
I want the blood of the black wings to drip onto our backs
Like a pomegranate with owl's dark disturbance.


Anatol Cordua © 2017