And so
We’ve both
Lost things
And neither
Returned to
Look for
Them knowing
That they
What we’d
Find wasn’t
What we
Lost yet
We found
Each other
And while
As not
Shiny and
New and
With a
Few dings
We are
What we
Are to
Ourselves and
Now to
Each other
Teach me
how to spy
on you
with just
the corner
of one
eye
Teach me
how to whisper
in a way
only you
will hear
Teach me
to speak
in humid
growls
Teach me
to explore
the ridges
of your flanks
the pools
of your
clavicle
the piano
keys
of your chest
Teach me
to know
you
like I
know
the moon
and stars
Teach me
like I’m
a failing
pupil
tutor
me
It started
as an eyelash
in the eye
winking
past flickering
light
which bathed
you
in buttery
light
past you
flowers
teased
your ear
giggling
you lean
closer whispering
nothing
yet saying
so much
It’s nighttime
quiet the sheers
in my room pant
in the heat
and breezes
there’s a tossed
off sheet
at your feet
twisted and turned
like a white python
at your ankle
the twisting
and turning tells a story
of quickened kisses
hurried hands
and passion
Skies wept today
in Hawaii it came
in sheets and
sprinkles it stopped
and started like a clogged
hose now my eaves are
dripping like the
boy and the dyke
skies the color of my
den a softened mouse gray
covers Diamond Head
and my tiny house the crest
of the volcano surrounded
by white balloons of rain
Waikiki is bustling not bubbling
effervescence of residents
dampened by moisture
skies resemble late afternoon
prematurely darkening gloom
lands on my valley like a lid
rain is coming down now
clarifying my streets and
alleyways the dirt going down
drains anticipating blue skies
tomorrow
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 