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Cinnamon Sleevs

from That Towering Blue by James Wylder

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From "Cascade".

lyrics

Cinnamon Sleeves

the cinnamon of your sleeve
or the filament of your robe
is thread bare to its color
and the shimmer of each walk
the glass nodes under my skin, I run my hands along the wall towards your room-- where your fingers smatter the keyboard with long thought words
and rise rise rise! Form! and I peer to see your synapses
but can only guess at the incongruity between your words
and the woman within who forged them
silently typing with your eyes wide and focused like a scientific machine
weaving worlds.
the cinnamon of your sleeve
and the filament of your robe
is thread bare to the mind
that somehow outpaces it’s flesh beauty
soaked in dyes like a dreamcoat
this isn’t the first time I’ve admired words
nor a woman’s splendor
and admittedly, I do so with the guilt of burdock and dandelion soda
bitter swigs as the river uncurls beside me
its waves asking me where you are, and why you don’t beautify its banks
like a public works project
you’d probably hate spending taxpayer dollars on that
so I should invite you to sip soda by the banks again
as a civic service
admiring how
the cinnamon of your sleeve
and the filament of your robe
is threadbare to the skin
like an unwashed Halloween costume
that still wins second place

we dwell in second place, we write there
and we will always be that overhang
despite the fact
that you always deserved the laurels
and a single kiss on the forehead
but with your words and your art and the pitter patter keys and the hair hanging down your eyes like a Japanese Horror movie
I can only feel your breath like a taunt
and imagine your kiss
tasting like
the cinnamon of your lips
and the filament of your hair
running through my fingers
like a long satin sleeve

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from That Towering Blue, released May 1, 2016

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James Wylder Elkhart, Indiana

Author of "An Eloquence of Time and Space", "10,000 Dawns", and "Cryptos."

Learn more at jameswylder.com

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