Do you see my soft charcoal lines?
I was a stamp of ink, a fencepost letterbox,
Territory - a blot on the landscape -
a shield mirror, a moat digger,
a straight line standing in a circle of steel.
I was iron, nickel, a face on a coin.
Do you see my soft charcoal lines?
I was mercury;
fluid, slippery
and untouchable,
I was encased;
measured and measuring.
Do you see my warm charcoal lines?
Soft as silver in the moonlight
with the one I love.
I was her malleable gold.
Do you see me?
I am light, shade, a smudge.
I want you to trace
the vanishing outline you have made.
Do you see?
For I am soft -
flesh me out
and I am yours.
08
I was a stamp of ink, a fencepost letterbox,
Territory - a blot on the landscape -
a shield mirror, a moat digger,
a straight line standing in a circle of steel.
I was iron, nickel, a face on a coin.
Do you see my soft charcoal lines?
I was mercury;
fluid, slippery
and untouchable,
I was encased;
measured and measuring.
Do you see my warm charcoal lines?
Soft as silver in the moonlight
with the one I love.
I was her malleable gold.
Do you see me?
I am light, shade, a smudge.
I want you to trace
the vanishing outline you have made.
Do you see?
For I am soft -
flesh me out
and I am yours.
08