March 25, 2009

Pearl Grotto

our mouths are oysters,
pearls growing inside
as quickly as they can drop from our lips

they stud our bodies
like the baubles of Indian gods
or currants in a cake,

caught behind our clavicles,
nestled in our navels,
stuck in the damp creases
of our elbows and knees,
encrusting our sexes
richly as jewels
on a crown

are we a grotto
to be filled with such
dripping extravagance?

the passage is narrow
and I flow lazily through
until I reach the mouth
and then

I am a waterfall
plunging forever, crashing,
nowhere to go but down
to swirl and bubble at the base

and your knees are mountains,
moving together, crumbling
around me, a howling, triumphant apocalypse,
raining rock and sand,

endless grains of sand.
each one will become a pearl.

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