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gordon nosworthy


Things Far Away


the landscape
is the landscape of the moon
valleys hills silver light
&shadow
&a great swollen flame
hangs
as a barren decoration

we meet
drawn together by intangible wishes
for contentment
I remove my lips
to kiss your feet

you smile
remove it from your face
plant it in the dust

a heart grows
like a tree
rooted in our intentions
nurtured by our mutuality
&the dust is wet
with tears shed for the moment
rich
after the removal
of our artificial lights

then as so often happens
the vision
born of desperation
your body

becomes a blind man’s tongue
seeing past darkness
that will come
that always comes

the landscape
is the landscape of the tabernacle
red flame holy gloom white
wafers &rising pledges
&a great swollen face
seeps from somewhere inside

it has your eyes
light brown like eternity
but the mouth is cruel
like the landscape of the moon
&the tabernacle
with its rules
rigid like the labels
of poison pills

Submitted: Thursday, March 13, 2014
Edited: Friday, March 14, 2014

Topic of this poem: relationship


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