Water Mountain

Celestial snake, beamed and blind boa
curled. Sleeping.
Patience. Pants. Patience.
Holding to your unfurrowed, softly round
brow. Planetary shaped,
like Jupiter
like seeds.

Bags piled in the backseat canvas.
Places to compile. Places to unwind.
Unwound and unbalanced heart.
What is balance but emptiness?
What is emptiness but love?
Unbound balanced heart, hither-oh,
I come to you, between two night trees.
We laugh, the two laugh at the one.
And I recollect this sickness
that encumbers my belly like a pack of heavy timber

of fire, for your chaotic step,
after I break for you my drum.
We are a night walk
up a mountain
and exchange a furlong submarine.
Patience. Pants. Submerged
and forlorn
you are my fawn. Patience. For the sun.
I weave into your night garden.
With night blossoms
and night bed.
I am breath, waiting
heavy, unbalanced
for night-cut-peaches
and night-cut-sun.
Broadcasting, undersea, screaming transistor,
telepathic dolphins
sing a clear song of despair
of their water-wombs
shut out from the light.