Two Graves
— Angelo Colavita & Joanna C. Valente
two unmarked graves, side by side
On being blue—
I’ve never been anything else,
wordless, breathless
or so it seems
(me, a body
not in service)
So many announcements
I can’t tell where my body
exists
when you are gone
I reach for you
inside of dreams and outside of my body
and I feel you but can’t see you
Is it that someone tore us
apart like metal pipes sawed in half
or is it that we did it to ourselves
stupidly, blindly?
Can our choices
be undone
belonging & unbelonging, being & unbeing?
undreaming
quite here, and quiet Who
needs a
body when
all we’ve got
is time? The other
analogous to the inner
light
or, child
wild orchid of belonging to Mother
of Harvest
we, in the wheatfields
a sacred promise an Autumn offering
from one
beast
to
the next: She—
foil of magnesium
filled with salt and folded
forward, buckles
cells swell, corrupted
This is how we give up how we give in to parody
It’s quiet here and quite lovely
She takes and embraces
what is dream (is more
like body, like breath
like belonging to
like coming
from) let
go
The other being red