by Joshua Gage
The moan inside your throat is a constellation
that guides my lips, my tongue. Here is the shore
of your neck, your shoulder, the small dark islands
of your nipples where the night descends in storm.
Come to me naked, hips a swollen moon
pulled in orbit around my waist. Let tides
rise. Let waves flood the sand dunes
of our skin. Let the boats of our villages capsize.
Let me lightning your heavens. Let me streak your sky
with the thousand comets of my burning kisses.
Let me burst a thousand meteorites
through your atmosphere to spray your crust.
I fall in retrograde and drag the cosmos
behind until we tremble into dust.
BIO: Joshua Gage is an ornery curmudgeon from Cleveland, His first full-length collection, breaths, is available from VanZeno Press. Intrinsic Night, a collaborative project he wrote with J. E. Stanley, was published by Sam’s Dot Publishing. His most recent collection, Inhuman: Haiku from the Zombie Apocalypse, is available on Poet’s Haven Press. He is a graduate of the Low Residency MFA Program in Creative Writing at Naropa University. He has a penchant for Pendleton shirts, rye whiskey and any poem strong enough to yank the breath out of his lungs. He stomps around Cleveland in a purple bathrobe where he hosts the monthly Deep Cleveland Poetry hour and enjoys the beer at Brew Kettle.
Tags: Joshua Gage, Poetry