If the bed was off the floor -
as it hasn't been since we crowded in
bruising on the slopes of skin
and climbing hand over
hand out again
only sometimes never -
there I've been.
Now then, a trunk
rusty comes
full of baubles and myrrh
through the seams
an old name comes back to me
neglected darkened hung
with spider sacs.
I'll wax your riven edges
and fill your hollow
test the swing of your lock
my old name trunk
rest against you
rest you in
the thinner gravity of this new room.
Nov 3, 2010
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