Sarah Lebeck-Jobe
I found my words buried up to the lips
and now they radiate from my center,
brittle enough to be broken without injury
you clamped onto my life
like a disturbed oyster,
an instinct implanted by the conjugal bonds
witnessed in your growth from youth
where the sense of touch
was conveyed by the blade of the knife
perhaps my presence causes inconvenience
to the delicately constructed reef of your mind,
or the action of my light creates unwelcome undulations
of that voluptuously grooved surface,
and now those consequent tremors
ripple throughout our cohabitation
encounters with your semi-savage side
which will not bend nor yield obedience
beget many vexatious memories
when we revisit this familiar holding ground
either from ignorance or mistake
yet your cloud-begotten tears
help us see clear as the moon
and the deeper we enquire, the more we find
the same unaccountable love
which drives away all fears