{"id":2112,"date":"2013-02-08T04:51:33","date_gmt":"2013-02-08T04:51:33","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=2112"},"modified":"2013-02-08T04:51:33","modified_gmt":"2013-02-08T04:51:33","slug":"davis213","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/davis213\/","title":{"rendered":"Lauren Davis"},"content":{"rendered":"

Bent Water<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/strong>
\nI knew you before the drowning, when mid-spring we took into our mouths the creek,
\nwading out, our feet masked in muck. We took between our teeth thistle weed, lost bait and line.
\nYou uncovered the mere beneath my tongue and asked to sample please and please again.
\nFirst sign of summer I unclasped the window, not unlike
\nwhen I unbuttoned the first of your shirt, exposing the ridges of your neck,
\ndip above the breastbone, my drinking pool. I bled your tarn dry,
\nsampled till stoned, sommelier of your fever, connoisseur
\nof the finer being of your body. I gutted you, my body swollen by drink.
\nAt the autumn air\u2019s insistence, I stole from your cigarettes the smoke, to taste what you tasted,
\nto learn intimately your lungs, the grotto of your throat, that riddled language.
\nI slipped to the Sea nightly, drawing with ash my confession for Her records,
\nreciting the smoke\u2019s biography. She listened, She moaned. She knew its story well.<\/p>\n

We left Her for the winter ocean. You needed water cold, dark, bottomless
\nI worked as a longshoreman, tired and half-distracted by satellites.
\nMy eyes sealed shut by frost. I never saw the full moon pray you
\ninto the polished noose of the Pacific, your knuckles raised in part-hearted surrender.
\nI only learned after the water gathered from your body into rain.
\nIt fell to the Sea, who remembered, and sent a condolence of rivered tears, sealed with your kiss.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
\nI Hummingbird Hover at Your Crux<\/strong><\/p>\n

 
\nI unshackle brass buttons,
\nslip off your 1000 thread silk cocoon
\nand liberate your gluten-free
\ntorso with its hermaphrodite waist
\nand innocent areola\u2014pink tight
\nand shy like unkissed schoolboys.
\nI tongue lock their virgin lips. I turn them to men.
\nYour arms, helpless as caught thieves,
\nflaunt muscle with marble rifts.
\nI suck and nibble each lift
\nand slope, slop them up without
\nCoke or bib. I hesitate at your Rolex,
\nglittering, vulgar on your wrist.
\nI turn a mistress eye to its glint
\nand take your thumbs
\nand eight saints in my mouth,
\nmine them for salt and bitter herb.
\nI hummingbird hover here
\nat your crux with its heart and gut.
\nI dare not go north, looking over
\nyour throat at a hundred types of foreign
\nfruit. If I break your mouth
\nin halves and scoop out the ruby meat
\nwith its magic seeds, how would
\nI ever return to your belly
\nto drink. And how could I unsnap
\nyour latch and gather
\nall your good and hungry
\nwhen I have this. How would I not
\nstumble into abyss amidst the haze of my dig.
\nAbove the belt I stay
\nand pray by my every stroke and bite
\nthat you insist\u2014by loaded gun
\nor beggar\u2019s plea\u2014that my hands
\nland soon please at the Bermuda triangle
\nof necessity.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
\nCathedral<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
\nCold dark, we walked
\nalong the silent lake
\nlooking for an excuse.<\/p>\n

We found a beach of cairns\u2014
\nat every turn sculptures
\nmarking the path into water.
\nA stranger had chosen
\neach rock with care,
\nhad given each intention
\nfashioning prayer\u2014
\nwatchful towers, fat pyramids
\nat the mercy of indifference.
\nYou shrugged your coat
\nonto the beach between two stacks.
\nDelicate as the cairns,
\nwe balanced kisses
\non rainwater gathering
\nin a dip of a boulder
\nfor the thirst of night horses.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
\nThe Mechanic<\/strong><\/p>\n

 
\nBecause imprinted metal coiled up your forearm
\nas you washed the inked bolts\u2014
\nsnake eyes of your skin\u2014in the garage sink,
\nI wanted to treat you like a machine.
\nI wanted to disentangle and flatten each steel grip and slant,
\nto test every deep line for shock, guzzle electricity at my throat\u2019s socket.
\nAnd because you carried water up and down your lines,
\nbecause with regret I witnessed oil empty, tallying grit splayed at my feet,
\nI cart a bag of cables, to force your motor to sputter, snare
\nand suckle on hot fuel kinder than blood.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
\nLong Quarrel with a Friend<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
\nI walk the pier alone at night.
\nEvening boats struggle with the wind,
\ntheir hands tethered to the lake\u2019s feet.<\/p>\n

We have become unthinking, friend.<\/p>\n

By rooted anchors, the boats wait
\nfor their captains\u2019 directions, first resisting
\nthen submitting to their place in deep water.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Bent Water   I knew you before the drowning, when mid-spring we took into our mouths the creek, wading out, our feet masked in muck. We took between our teeth thistle weed, lost bait and line. You uncovered the mere beneath my tongue and asked to sample please and please again. First sign of summer […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2112","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nLauren Davis - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/davis213\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Lauren Davis - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Bent Water   I knew you before the drowning, when mid-spring we took into our mouths the creek, wading out, our feet masked in muck. We took between our teeth thistle weed, lost bait and line. You uncovered the mere beneath my tongue and asked to sample please and please again. 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