Poem of the Month: Amnesia

A body is a simple gift
without the sidling mind in tow
to guess the sense in every move
to lathe out of silence
what might have been said

Your touch urges amnesia
of all but the orbit of your hands
you unwind me thread by thread
like a silk cocoon.
I feel the sprouting of new parts
I need not name

To stem the words
I take you in my mouth
a pilgrim’s rite
you twine your fingers in my hair
sing yes, yes, yes
like a pious altar boy
chanting Latin praises
he does not understand

Then I cup you in a crescent moon
pull at you like the witless tide.
we forget who is soft, who is hard
do not see where we are or why,
all thoughts slyly banished
by salt-lick love