“Tell me more quickly what I lost by this....”
In endless undressed summer
we kissed with the same lips,
shared the same secret,
slept in the self-same dream:
The cream and music of her skin
is an aria in heat, coloring and flushing,
blushing and cooling, turning burnished
copper in the sun.
In immeasurable tryst she sweats
& glistens like a harlot at full gallop,
twisting and arching, murmuring and squirming,
burning luminous through the night....
Who numbers how long a while it lasted--
how many suns & moons, how many comets and eclipses,
how many solstices:
It is an opera of two characters in search
of welded flesh, with spacious entr'acte
in equatorial Africa, horned and prickly,
voracious in hunger & lioness' bloody lipstick....
How long was the desert night and cold sand,
with rattlers and scorpions under darting feet,
dancing the self-same gypsum in one intoxicating beat:
It is the ballet in which the ballerina first discovers hips,
snaking locomotively under the severest, gravest star,
animating a sandpainting diagrammatic with hourglass hours...
Does anyone know when winter came, when music fell
frozen to the snow?
Which physicists, which mathematicians name the cosmos
where self-same twice-born near invisible smile persists
through burning eyes of ice?
E. A. Costa 3 January, 2015 Granada, Nicaragua