Durga, 5

tell me I will not die alone
       in a hotel room or anywhere
else you aren't. tell me of the world's
       apples their variety their color

my eyes have always been brown
       but I see so much gold. somewhere
it is summer, somewhere the 
       blue fingers of lightning

​tap the horizon. the heat itself
        has a smell, sensual
as all the roses of the beach
        reclining the legs of their scent across

the coast. the least of things
       is alive and knows it is alive. 
the sand vibrates like atoms.
       love, it is only in your eyes that

I am no longer a bear, a common
       beast. it is only in your eyes
that I have shed 
       the relentless torpor have 

unzipped this tuxedo of
        matted night. Durga, tell me
of the strawberries that hide
        in the grass

whisper something
        of such entanglements. 
thank you. thank you. 
        in this human shape that only 

you will believe in
       I will rinse your hair
I will press the piano keys of your toes
       softly to the earth.