Power Politics Read Free Page A

me
brittle and pushing you away
    This is not something I
wanted, I tell you
    silently, not admitting
the truth of where
    I am, so far
up, the sky incredible and dark
    blue, each breath
a gift in the steep air
    How hard even the boulders
find it to grow here
    and I don’t know how to accept
your freedom, I don’t know
    what to do with this
precipice, this joy
    What do you see, I ask / my voice
absorbed by stone and outer
    space / you are asleep, you see
what there is. Beside you
    I bend and enter

    I look up, you are standing
on the other side of the window
    now        your body
glimmers in the dark
    room / you rise above me
smooth, chill, stone-
    white / you smell of tunnels
you smell of too much time
    I should have used leaves
and silver to prevent you
    instead I summoned
    you are not a bird you do not fly
you are not an animal you do not run
    you are not a man
    your mouth is nothingness
where it touches me I vanish
    you descend on me like age
you descend on me like earth

    I can’t tell you my name:
you don’t believe I have one
    I can’t warn you this boat is falling
you planned it that way
    You’ve never had a face
but you know that appeals to me
    You are old enough to be my
skeleton: you know that also.
    I can’t tell you I don’t want you
the sea is on your side
    You have the earth’s nets
I have only a pair of scissors.
    When I look for you I find
water or moving shadow
    There is no way I can lose you
when you are lost already.

    They were all inaccurate:
    the hinged bronze man, the fragile man
built of glass pebbles,
the fanged man with his opulent capes and boots
    peeling away from you in scales.
    It was my fault but you helped,
you enjoyed it.
    Neither of us will enjoy
the rest: you following me
down streets, hallways, melting
when I touch you,
avoiding the sleeves of the bargains
I hold out for you,
your face corroded by truth,
    crippled, persistent. You ask
like the wind, again and
again and wordlessly, for the one forbidden thing:
    love without mirrors and not for
my reasons but your own.

He is last seen
    1
    You walk towards me
carrying a new death
which is mine and no-one else’s;
    Your face is silver
and flat, scaled like a fish
    The death you bring me
is curved, it is the shape
of doorknobs, moons
glass paperweights
    Inside it, snow and lethal
flakes of gold fall endlessly
over an ornamental scene,
a man and woman, hands joined and running
    2
    Nothing I can do will slow you
down, nothing
will make you arrive any sooner
    You are serious, a gift-bearer,
you set one foot
in front of the other
    through the weeks and months, across
the rocks, up from
the pits and starless
deep nights of the sea
    towards firm ground and safety.