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Displacements
A moment inverted
Becomes cool midnight
Entering a forest
With her lips against my ear.
Harpsichord leaks a liquid mood
Between the beechnut trees.
Cotton spores from burst pods slide into the wind.
Mushrooms luminesce.
I hold her face in my eyes -
Hyperbolic single being.
We weave spider webs in leafy churches
And speak words that are displacements of nighttime.
Where our cheeks touched liquid moments flowed
In that place out of time.
Before my eyes,
She changes from woman to god to monster to woman again.