Home

Lampshades spool out from the house, becoming clotheslines,
the mountains at dusk, the way the light
burrows under the island. You are invoked by it, your separate parts
become harmonics of a single string, your hair

bleeds out from the gash of the first and the second
retreats from your skin in the familiar capillary.
A third and standing wave reverberates.
Your image back and forth between the buildings, back and forth.

There are factories even here, it smells like flowers and
the metal rink of making.
Here are stories you won’t tell me, here are
two of both kinds of heart, and the vascular systems
wound around them. Here every star and its grey orbits hum with blood.

It is a place that you can simply move to, simply
turn to like a radio dial. You are so far away. You
are so much of my home here. I am stuck fast,
take me with you, take me with you.