Out of Fear of a Loss

Out of fear of a loss
A killing comes
Early one morning awoken
By saws running chopping
At limbs told as it
Were to clean things up
And make this high
Shouted beauty
Disappear out
Of fear that a certain
Everyday cunning
Occurs weather
Storm winds might knock
Her against fright toss her
To ground the tauten
Tight men have come
With saws sharpened
To carve her apart slice
Her to pieces ancient
Pain slicing whispered
Limbs inevitable
Whispering these are
The things that I do the
Things that are good
And right and true even
Identical thatched
Killing comes
Early one
Morning limbs
Wave in the wind
Everything as it should
Be out of
Fear of an Absalom
Pretender killing
Comes ancient
Pain leaves only
One crutched hole in the
Earth where her sacred
Scarred body once
Crashed
To the ground.

Need

Whatever words such
As these
Could never hope to
Describe the perfection
Of the swaying
Swell of your hips could
Never tell the worn-down
World how autumn rain and
Truth bring
Suffering through your
Lips long standing wouldn’t
Justify the want you
Express pure feeling through
Your eyes the black strap
Of your bra laced over
Your shoulder fading
Hair in a moonbeam
Draped across
Pastel breast except
The fastening
Of your astral body once
Again to mine whatever
Rampart begged to
Make us separate apart
Could never stop
Expounding seeketh
Only my own
Sleepless need to
Please.