by Marina Bonanno
Quarantine. Quarrel. Quarter.
Dividing my time,
Sifting through sentiments,
Peering into prisms that obfuscate and confuse.
If we were together now, of what might we quarrel?
Would I love you unselfishly?
Praise your predilections?
Nourish every need?
Or would I quarrel with you mercilessly,
Meting out misery,
A spiteful shrew needling,
Internal rage reduced to rancor.
Nursing a salty loneliness of bitter, brittle brine.
I realize time with you was always quarantined.
Quartered into portions of too few rations to sustain me.
Quarrels that were avoided until we disappeared.
I Come To You As Moonlight
I seek you through space over enigmatic night.
I touch your cocoa skin, imprinting my longing for you, lest you forget me.
I shall not slumber to gaze upon you for eternity.
Your eyelids taste of almonds, your lashes, satin caresses.
Permit me to devour, cover you in chocolate kisses, paint you with my tongue.
You are my oxygen. Our breath, hotter than sun, commingling as one.
Your furrowed brow, a map of creases that hail from parts unknown.
I wish to explore these crevasses, learn their secrets from when you were young.
Follow their trail of gumdrops from childhood. Assuage your fears before they’ve begun.
I come to you as moonlight, covered in cloaks of gossamer.
Without illusions nor pretensions.
Transparent as truth, beautiful as night.
I will love you ad infinitum. Across galaxies, throughout millennia, in every lifetime.
Transport and transcend us beyond mortality. Bathe you in soft illumination.
Hold you in sanctuary, whilst we come undone.