So I fell asleep with the stereo on
and it played through every song until
it reached that heart attack crescendo:
the ending that strains, mounts, swells
against itself, it lurches,
slouches upward, rises and rises
upon its rising until it finally—

That note and its moment
remind me of your name
unspoken, on the edge of my lips,
here in this haze of half-waking.
And the beginning of your name begins
the field of pure yellow light
blazing across autumn-straw grasses,
the field of green-smelling Spring grass,
or the thorny range of Winter branches…

Fields of time slow like a rolling wave
or fields of azure spread like an ocean
and I am the waves that crest in the air,
there’s no moon, and I am pulled
by you and you alone, with your force,
that pulse like a radio
transmission that sputters
out into space…

My body burns at a different warmth now
as I have taken in your airless heat
like a creek rock in the Summer sun;
and you are a glowing lens to the
force of desire, the crescendo:
your lips on my neck travel
faster than my thoughts,
faster than my apprehension—