I

My stubbornness begets you, a nocturnal creature

who bites my dream and spits it out,

dampens my canthus in the morning with your kisses.

Your teeth print your urge

of melting in me on my skin. In reply, I kiss

the ugly rear of you, and dip my hands

into our whispers at night.

II

"Indeed, art hides his art." So marveled was Pygmalion

and so soft was my voice when

I read that to you. So to find if you are made of ivory,

I ran my hands over you, searching for

the coldness. As the flaming tides in your eyes

rushed over me, the sun beat down.

III

Even if my blindness surrounds you

with mist, I will sail on the ark when the water

recomposes itself to rain, just like how you

were recomposed from me. Our tree rings, pendants wore

on the neck, warmth that breaks the surface of solitude

rise and fall in resonance. The same equation

transforming for two answers. When I get lost,

you will find me. Raise your chisel

in the blankness.