Your Silence Tickles Me, Migin | Two Poems

March, 2014 

 

 

Your silence tickles me, Migin

Your silence tickles me. Those ploys

Are salve for a cowherd’s lone,

Red magic, one moment lymph-red sore

To sprout a weal of passion, loath

Trances - and two years’ glaze on corns

Peel at the touch of your eyes


Your silence tickles me.

How sole is that calm glow!

Do you tempt gods? Do winds ride

The tone of your pulse? The night’s

Cold trumpeter? A dire lapdog cast

What brings you back to me? Tell me, Migin

Your silence tickles me.
  

by that dusk...

So now the sun leaps to a death-tryst

In shredded robes, and rashes break

On every pore, heavy with dreams


So now, sadness flags on petals of wine

For lake-mists from the meadows of lone

In October dusts, and threshing in shadows


So now I saw. By that dusk I saw
 
An angel’s flare fly in seasoned loops

I saw you, pure to the fall of light...

Paintings by B. C. Okah.