Untitled by Adebe D. A.


your smiling mouth is enough
to pull me through
to the damp smoky
pits of hell
where upon arrival I will become
burdened by fever
and quicksilver veins

with your head rested upon my abdomen
I feel a black heaviness heave on me
like a large stone
that can never tell the difference
between wind
or sunlight
or snowstorm,
but exists merely
for its own self

carved from old marble
as you are,
and masculine,
I melt into you
like wilting violets,
using your arms
as a blanket
for tomorrow’s silence.

                – Adebe D. A.
                   from Words Dance 6, Fall 2004