The way the river meets our bodies,
meet me that way. Though I resist,
surround me. Rush to me. Lick me.
Drench me. Insist. Touch me
everywhere at once. Float me.
Don’t care about my name. Always
leaving me, always arriving.
Bring me news of the sky.
Shine me. Glisten me. Shiver me. Hush.
Bring me the moon. Bring hum.
Wet me. Wake me. The years go by.
We are more ourselves and less.
Meet me the way the river meets
our bodies, with infinite tongues,
none of them thirsty, all of them
curious. Surprise me with your
strength, your pull. Say nothing.
Meet me. My hands are stone.
Erode me. Soften me. Release me
in you. You stretch in both directions
as far as I can see.
Thank you for your beautiful blog posts I enjoyed here. I am nominating you for the Beautiful Blogger Award. You can find details on my blog here:
http://cristinamonicamoldoveanu.wordpress.com/2012/08/25/blog-award/
“Shine me. Glisten me. Shiver me. Hush.” Is there yet another, final, “me,” missing? Seems so.
Much of this poem’s language reminds me of the timelessness of rivers: The same river is hours upstream, hours downstream, and streaming right this instant in front of you. And there’s also this: If we’re comprised mostly of water, then there’s quite a deeper, and maybe not a solely strictly metaphoric meaning to telling your beloved to, “Meet me the way rivers meet our bodies.”
You could say the meanings ripple outward infinitely, but that’d be too punny, but such a sublime poem so roiled with meaning.
Now here’s a sexy line that you just don’t hear:
My hands are stone.
Erode me.
It makes me smile at the same time it is completely unexpected, that image. Very clever, young lady, very clever…