Coordinates I

 

 

You would understand if 

you fell as I have, and like mortal entropy 

everything in you flows towards another. 

The sunlit bridge spans

the East River, waves pile onto the shore;

the record player turns Hallelujah.

All at once the river becomes the Bosphorus:

caïque boats spring up as if they’ve been underwater,

waiting. You would understand if with every tiptoe 

your blood is wine and takes flight in your veins.

I’ve always wished to live between definitions. 

I remember asking for wings to embroider my back. 

Does a storm devour your house in your dreams? 

Do your words ache?

Do you pull apart the stars of cross lovers? 

You would understand, only if you felt 

whispers in your ear coordinates, and the nights 

fasten onto you like safety pins.