tenderness

haiku arrhythmia

your moon always rises

your waters tremble my nostrils

 

don't be ashamed

just touch

my acupuncture points

 

children talk quietly

along the meridians

kissers never stop kissing

 

and my father who never drew a picture in his life

in the dissolution of senility

paints the air with his hands

 

mobile

and moving marble

he was white white white

 

until I opened his mouth