Archive
Moment
We pause for a moment,
stifling sound,
tuned to our cycling and
recycling blood,
meshed,
lead-heavy,
drinking breath,
impossibly boundless and still.
Each pulse comes flooding.
We’ve passed here before;
once I heard music,
once there was rain,
once we found shelter,
once we had time.
The seconds are spilling
unbearable sweetness;
moving’s unthinkable,
waiting is pain.
Lost in a minute,
matter and mind
we are moved again.
by K. Cohen
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Ekphrasis 7: Rachel Rawlins + K. Cohen
*
Safe
Here
you’ll find
no racing pulse,
electric touch,
flower folds
or passion’s flush;
no heated gaze,
no sweaty limbs,
no swollen, thrusting
metonyms.
Nobody sins,
no one reclines.
She doesn’t taste or smell his skin.
Not here, their carnal valentine.
No petals were crushed to make these lines.
by K. Cohen
Matinal
1.
Listen.
A twig snaps,
a leaf
turns,
two take
one breath.
2.
Dawn hasn’t come,
but while we wait
the air wakes and rains to earth;
night and day linger in a dream of muffled light
then tenderly divide.
Now you see.
Nothing breaks.
by K. Cohen
qarrtsiluni 