Poem I submitted for Crook's 1B

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The Ibex

I stand beneath blooming full moon light posts

Bright burning white stretching out in a yawn like a star streaking past the chromatic ring that shifts with the quivering of the eye.

Grass sways about my feet and breaks through concrete blockades to smell swirling strawberry night air. 

Men die in droves for ideals while I wait for my beloved beside an alloy engine car that murmurs and trembles like the warm bodied women in the cold.

You approach and your shadow lengthens then oscillates until it evaporates entirely like vapor,

The shadow tongue of your sweater strings still lolling on the ash gray asphalt road.

Goosebumps rise together ceremonially like a thousand electric mole hills,

pulsating lively in the sun.

I imagine my pursed pink lips pressing against the dimples of your back and somewhere in the world there is an explosion of fire and pain in a grand tragic immolation,

The molten liquid metal poured down the throat of humanity without defiance.

Spotted leopards trudge through snow,

Through and against extinction to feed on the fallen frosted ibex of time.

Its copper eyes and mouth agape as the teeth tear through the carrion and the maggots writhe over the red exposed muscle pounding in the wind.

Breath flows through conversation through four lungs and through the innumerable cells of being,

carrying the blood of our blood through our own inflated or bloated arteries.

Blood flows over bodies and through the filters of our hearts.

Blood flows through the endless array of cerebral cortex in search of purpose and flows through our gutters in the name of our Purposes.

Your hand is soft and sweating in mine and I clench it tightly and watch the folds of our skin fold together into one hand.

All hands will become our hands,

Hands that grope at flesh fervently hoping never to let go

Feet that graze momentarily beneath the knotted wooden table tops

Eyes that lock across crowded sultry rooms with the intensity of spider web lightning cracks through all this walking talking dust.

Humans are lightning and falling star dust and blood and sex and all strewn together on wavering wire like second-hand Christmas tinsel,

United to tear its blemishes into flailing sodden shreds.

She kisses his blemishes and holds him closely against her chest and the earth becomes so spectral and distant.

Mountainside whispers of running rivers and flora in a breeze beneath the black clouds and cold showers

Light rays twist through time and space and shoot into an unknowable pocket

I run my hand across a face and beneath that face are eyes of sunlight that stream with tears.

Our bodies press in joy and hands clasp once more in exaltation, the body screaming,

“This is life!”

Sunlight eyes closed, our moist lips touch for the first time in the dark.