makom kadosh/sacred space

west

she stands small beneath a thrum of
falling water, long tresses of wavy black hair
fishtail the backs and sides of her knees 

trickles of air along her belly and back
join the water's communion with her skin 

spread wings of wet gravity 
trace her outline 
as tho hand carved to hug her form 

her hands dance the smooth parts of space and submerging 
through the playful harmony of her fingertips  

the small muscles of her checks 
brush the warm weight of bliss
tilt wide open lips to bask in the cool wetness

a chorus of splashes grab last glimpses of themselves
in the roaring tides of her eyes
before folding
in thick currents of what lies ahead

her simmering tune, chords in the shape of a
promise to remember with the same
perseverance they will remember her

she rocks a small pool of glistening drops in her cupped palms 
surrenders their gentle cover across my trembling cheeks
an answer to my wordless question
it is how I know you, how water loves. 

north

his web of muscle flexed in
slow moving strength in
slow greeting the eternal
in each living fractal

he offers himself the whole balance of things
giving gravity her way with his twin souls

his electric blue communion
codes of deep purple twisting
force fields of wordless melodies
in small canyons of familiar

a chorus of green bloods
bless in ancient formulas of adaptation

swim cascades of origins 
to their buttoned helix of form

he sips my reflection in the wide glint of his irises 
his clear heart breathing me

the ocean of his eyes rests the steel places inside me, my soft sobs
coaxing the easy glow of his understanding

rocked in his presence
my hiding soaks through me

his fractured offering, each unbearable truth 
regrown stronger from the pulsing root of its own ash

east

she wakes a gritty exuberance 
plucking first strings of light from the quiet cape of horizon
the bony hinges of her sleep unspool in mounting eagerness to drink the dawn
cords of memory like bells call her from the depths of her dreaming 
like silk scarves through flesh, matrices of differentiation climb
her to find the banks of today

she joins a chorus of branches arching into space 
wiggled gratitude knitting her toes to the spinning orb of her home
the ferris wheel of rotation swinging her length through dimming stars

the tender weight of her shoulder blades draws
smooth muscle across a dimpling ridge of doubts 

each time she casts her body to her wild love affair with wind 
she sheds the stubborn collection of her human inheritance
gusts of nervous wondering if this time her trust 
will be abandoned to hard ground 

she waits for
faith to rise like a mountain
the holy grip of exhilaration
to tear the remains of hesitation
and tips her belly into flight

easing along a tunnel of air
from her cozy cliffs edge
to where I am
toes kissing the tips of grasses
as she dips her body to the earth beside me

she wraps me in a basket of blood-warm wings
bone and skin and feathers weaving one in their encircling 
a long and sweet silence
waits for the dust of my disbelief to settle 

beckons me to part the folds of her consciousness
to inhale my reflection as every perfect thing, to know myself as
nothing other than this

south

the deep red juice of a black plum 
dives from her chin in fat drops
she surveys her turmeric yellow dress
and approves the update, a dotted
outline seeming to form above the
plump flesh of her heart

the sticky sweet rendering bulges and
twists inside the cross stitches of the fabric,
spilling open like the back flips of young petals  

liters of symbols, halos of formulas, sectioned
like they’re cupping the golden meat of a citrus
fruit form a library of geometry chattering between
its own echo

dissolved in a ruddy grin, she lets the teachings
of the four quadrants of the heart slip their secrets

pouring one’s want in the full draw of another’s welcome
receiving another’s fiery living inside our own flesh 
to be undone anew in each union 
to let go when time trails her magenta sunset
through our reaching

her satisfied limbs glide threads
of light tapping parting dances with
leafy offspring 

she pauses before slipping from her dress 
into the salty prism mounting around her

to rest flickering eyes in mine, to let me
know she knows I was watching the whole time