i did not know until i tasted your honey
it made me ache to feel everything you did
it made me stutter to say nothing but grace

when the belief took me for one moment
that your spun-gold had been made for me
it made me forget myself inside myself

was i the honey in your cell
your glass jar of honey or a thought
in the stomach of a honeybee

the sweet up-welling had dripped everywhere
i wept to taste it over everything until
the sky set me down in tethers and drizzles

//

miel japonais

i cannot lie the bit plum
is perhaps uncomfortable

yet her blossoms are close-pure
sour soft easy undressing-me cool

her love-notes strewn across the floor
like slipped-off shoulders of honed wood

light anarchy my never lonely reason
to lend her tart my sweet-tipsy vibe

(i inhale)

these golden hints of spring
seems so promising

//

hungry
4
a japanese jazz record