Facts about Snakes & Hearts, a 2015 poetry chapbook by Flower Conroy

?

Asleep with a continent of dream content
between us, thickening pool of insomnia (terra
incognito condensating on my mind),

I’m not the one unconscious-dressed,
jagged & frayed by stone colored light, ear-
drum soft; rather, aware of the immediate world—
the moon, foreign & tabescent through the screen
as it curtains & glistens over the intricacies of our quiet
bodies, heavily eavesdropping on the leaves;
the candent walls naked around us; the blank
reflection of the mirror—I am sheltered by shadows,
half-enchanted & washed in this creeping solitude.
Simplified obeisance, I trace the camber blanketed
against me, under plain white sheets, the hollows
where cotton has sculpted unquestionably a bodyscape
of neck & chest, the rhythm of ribs barely rising, sand
thighs like scrolls & a waterfall I cannot reach.
I confess my fragmented thoughts,
bury them in the unexplored space
separating my mouth from yours
& wait to be discovered
by sleep, the musk-scented
rising dusk, the pale noise
of breathing.

 

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