fiction
ultraviolet zone ii
(kat, rainer maria rilke & ee cummings)
all the sounds between z &a(fter violet
each higher image
a reflection of itself
until in ultimate clarity
the ideal form unfolds
in unity of movement) ::
arrows toward a phantom.
it tastes like an untwisted navel.
a parabola that ticks.
chromed rims.
sensitive tips.
it tastes like love.
it does not know what semiotics is.
rub the pearls lightly along
the biting edge of your teeth.
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near.
You language where all language
ends. You time
standing vertically on the motion of mortal hearts.
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose.
a new color
that opens and folds
k
a
t
shallow breaths
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond-
heart-space
grown out of us. The deepest space in us,
which, rising above us, forces its way out,--
holy departure:
when the innermost point in us stands
outside, as the most practiced distance, as the other
side of the air:
pure,
boundless,
no longer habitable.
(fancy dust)