prostrate by steps

prostrate by steps
(mount meru measured by your body)

we are on the same journey
(etching over of an older one)
that is slowly coming into focus, like ink spreading,
like black blood smoke feathered into water
pooled.

I hear your quietness,
my love,
but instead of
such folded reticence as you seem to give,
(dark reverance)
lies the very shape of surrender.

the loudest sounds
are your heartbeats,
(each-time, quietest-close, in-breath)
like scudded black fruits
on wet ground, apples fallen under their tree,
contraction and retraction of breath,
crabapples rotting in the rain,
(coldest air of before-morning),
under-breathing.

there is a spider-system of deep wells
and hidden passageways just under your house, (set so lightly on the earth):
black channels spread like webs,
wet reservoir unseen,
waiting for you to fall through.

(elg 2010)