Your perfume is cleaner than soap, your fingers sharper than
Sunshine. Your touch more deadly than television, your toes
More agile than a teenage Soviet gymnast. Your smile’s
Prettier than Van Gogh’s dream of flowers; your neck as
Fragile as a galaxy which was spied once, one single night,
On the edge of a night sky, collapsing like a punctured
Accordion; its music too sweet for the universe to
Bear. Your mind’s an anaconda and a string quartet.
Your mind’s an undiscovered chamber in the pyramid of
Cheops. Your mind floats like a butterfly and stings like a
Nightingale. Your mind’s as pure as driven wine and as
Wicked as an angel’s. Your mind is rivalled only by your
Flesh in its un-transparent beauty and its transparent
Beauty to boot. Your beauty’s like a bubble, blown by a child.
It shimmers, defies the odds, sustains itself on the point of
Vanishing: should I try to catch it I’ll fear to lose it. Every
Colour wrapped in none, it reflects my world and floats
Within it: a philosophical challenge. Put down the ramp,
Drop the door, let’s travel the bubble together. Visit
Planets beyond the sensory range. Cross untameable
Seas, radical beaches, sulky jungles, runaway cities.
When the bubble’s energy’s spent, ready to pause,
Let her settle on my tongue, a safe haven. Rest there.
Sustain the perfect. Don’t ever burst. Don’t ever burst.
+++
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