Capricorn

i've forgotten, maybe, 

what made me remarkable to my parents  -- 

the placement of the stars on my birthday,

orion's refutable irrelevance,
his sword a pointed indication;

an index finger stretched in
constellary condemnation --
i've forgotten

what this  means for me  --  (my "cosmic space")  --

proverbial butterflies' wings.

I thought my arms were swords;
To embrace me was to bleed.

but i have known the inside of your mouth for 

quick, intimate moments--

there it is! the soft, billowy sail of cheek, 

the private flesh of neck; 

the dog-tooth, sharp, provocative, the plaintive, 

crazy tongue. and i recall,

under a harvest moon, looks that

even at the time seemed

slightly more than half-intended, 

looks whose futures worm-holed us into infinite

scenarios: soft osculations and 

oft walks along the wintry potomac;

skinned rabbits! too much salt!

brazen manifestos of the heart!

incorrect, (y)our incorrections,
treading waters,

boilings over,
sittings in church with that particular

church-light i was taught to distrust,

and your kneelings at the pew 

in an attitude of humility -- my own indiscretion,

confusion, my deliberate sinnings, my 

socratic questionings; if
god, then what,

if not, then
who, and

that first day in church with that particular

church-light all i saw was you -- neither god nor
constellation -- 

and the future made the sound a flower makes

as it unfolds inside a drum,
My hearts iambic thrum. You

a rhythm moved to match and meet
that which cannot be un become.

and, now, when we're together,

lying wet as mermaids once we've slipped apart,

my heart… my heart.