a draft horse body.
bred thoroughly by fire.
how the ruby embers remember themselves with one strong breath.
her surrendering off-kilter, secret spiller.
him entering her.
with dark seed eyes,
flickers, her slither, his slap.
the way the old chair opens its mouth.
the way they made the other chairs an anchor,
her root, his hold.
his invested plum now
two cooled grapes, or
a handful of dried currants though,
like the diamond coals,
makes it ripe again,
with the quickness of a peregrine.
when you become
eucalyptus, madrone, manzanita.
when you become the center in the trunk-
when they curl their suits into each other,
his flag draped,
her tail curled.
her victorious puissance,
his magnificent cause.
they roll in the stillness and
pray on fine-point edges.
they temper and tamp.
they play without clocks.
he saws her in half,
she reappears in a sauna.
when you become a golden puddle.
when the sun eats the evening inside out.
when every sound is a sacrament.
when your sweat is an oil,
he wants to bottle her armpit,
like a stuffed apricot,
a cinnamon goat,
an amber honeycomb.
when they leave through their limbs
and come home to themselves
they find that
is an engine.
when your heart is a hummingbird.
when wings weave on your walls.
when you become both the feast and the fervor,
and every murmur in the halls.