Jan/Feb 2002 Poetry

Two Poems

by Tasha


The Things I Do To You

for J.A.T.

I color you with opaque blue,
gorge my sadness into
your palms.
I dissolve you into fluid dreams
where tiny bird bones
float in pretty lily songs.
I ask you to meet me here
in the fissured dark
just to lie quite and still
so that I may listen
to the beat of your heart.



What brightens the painting
is the suggestion of soft--
white with green,
the slant of disorder
like spilled wine
a trick of distance,
a measurement of discipline

we are beyond the sound of
the garment's rustle
and joyous fall


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