SIX ECCLESIASTICAL LOVE SONGS by C. T. Salazar
heaven is a compound
word
the sun sunders
us dazzling
so you don’t have to
wonder what wound
I’m showing
:::
heaven-heavy
like
a cello’s hello—
/ heaven-heavy
like an animal fond of its own
fur.
:::
A cello’s hollow
that’s what it felt like
breathing with you
in the dark
:::
heaven is a compound
but not the one we’re in
we were called heathens in another myth
hello whatever wound we answer to now
:::
the language of electricity was
the language of prophets
a conduit for the power to pass through
I’m all steeple at your lightning
let us tremble cellos
at your touch
:::
the river knowing which way to go
without any godspeed to spill
heaven: clouds marigolding softly
:::
birds drones butterflies a jug
of water anything
could get over that fence
- Published in Issue 19, Uncategorized