breaking surface

“This is not some superficial
love story…” – Joseph* ~ OneLight*® in “until the pastel dawn”

the night suddenly acquired the consistency of skin
and we clustered, like fragments of some celestial
body, beneath its surface;

then words, like hands, and hands, like breath,
rose and fell, musically, perhaps following some
ubiquitous score of blood;

and the surface became, as the unfathomable
must, transparent; fluid, even, and vulnerable
to the moon, both above and reflected within -
as tides are.

that would be why we naturally crested,
then flooded; and why we were alternately
disseminated, aggregated, diluted, condensed,
veiled and bare;

yes, like some celestial body; unalterably
alterable, in its wholeness made of particles,
each one the evolving, embryonic, and yet
complete substantiation of the former and
of the next;

yes, like skin that suddenly acquires the intrinsic
consistency of this love; and breaks us, as one -
into dawn.

-- © 2008 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®