She Paints with No Frame
For Aubrey Hirsch
I like your kind of breaking,
the particle of it, the magic
& the lack of lid on it, the char
that drops blue as truth,
wrapping the physics
of our human restraint
around the infinitely rich
imagination of believers.
I believe in color, I believe
in the suffocation of dark,
I believe that dawn is a flash
of element, human, fantastic,
colliding in Pittsburgh,
with the light touch of before
the reaction made us.
*
State of the Hinges
Swarm
& collected salt,
the wood
was always meant
for the bugs
& their un-mending
barrage of selves.
We invented
doorways
so that crossing
the threshold
would have more
meaning to us.
The rest of the small,
valid fears, made doors
out of less
than rock, lighter
than a greeting.
More poetry at Used Furniture.
