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How It Would Be To Breathe for One Another

from / by Yxu

/

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lyrics

oh
how she made the ocean leap,
the day
that she revealed to me
the bow in her belly to be.
oh
how i had to crawl beneath it,
that all of it
could fall through me.

to be baptized into a father,
i learned
the face of each wave,
to be draped underwater
in the dress of light,
my holy see
cannot house death or life
(only give itself for another).

how do i float
in an oil spill lake?
how do i
know the silt
painted greygreenblue
frozen currents of her veins,
covered in a layer
so thick so bleak
that i struggle to speak?
it sticks
when i tell her i believe in her.
only after weeks,
did i realize this as this.
only then,
did i resist the woe,
beginning to swim
without strokes,
beginning to hope.

(i fit a flood
into the splinter
that i slipped
into the river
spilling from your center,
so never tell me there is no room for hope
never say it isn't so.)

to hope
that we could
fashion from the fathoms
a masterpiece,
at last a peace:
the best of our sentiments,
invested with the innocence
of lovers in arms in arm
against
the constant onslaught,
the onrush,
the starless obsidian abyss
all around that is
the sea of grief,
the grief of being.

so under covers
rumpled in the squall
we tossed away the armor of regard,
stumbled,
tumbled, and discovered
how to drown
how it would be to breathe for one another
now.

how we had sighed
and that that was a sign
that the heart had resigned
the divide of itself and its lining.
the gentle edge
i swept deftly through her legs,
it left a cleft.
she bled a bit of witness
to the tempest,
let the middle of the mist
hit and miss us,
make of her of a mrs.,
double braid a seam
in the midst of us,
cut us with a double bladed
dream.

later in our lives
we moved from the shore
to the mountains.
the clouds would sit
cross legged around us,
and we would play the day
breaking them:
a blanket upon awaking.
this place became the safest haven
for raising our baby.
and with a daughter
called the carpenter of grace,
the sawyer of providence,
we can surely say:
the marble in that azur
murmuring past us
is a whitewhite mist,
the gift
of a life
the color
of going blind.

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from /, released May 1, 2011

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