The Amaranthine Poet

Tar Brick Trail

March 8, 2010 on 2:26 pm | In Everything | No Comments

ice caked star
stuffed in the holes of this tar brick trail.
I walk the darkness
leading to you
I’d like to say that
the milky silk
snow lacing each crease
is the palette
and your calling voice is
the paint on my finger-
tips ready to swirl
over ice and melt
as rainbow puddles
on the trail.

the closer I get,
the more I become
a cell shaken in the furious globe of you.
clouds settle down
their hands are dipped in the
black tar
watches with a wet eye as
I walk the path to meet you
unlock the door to your car.
stars and everything else
slam against the window.
blue and bluer bursts of the matter that we become.
the emulsion of your breath and mine. Smoky mirrors in the car. I am in your center.
and as I leave the tar brick trail will whisper
until it ends.