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Aperture

David St. John
 

She was a doorway opening onto the light
She was the light within this doorway

She stood like the single aperture of the night
A last molded pupil of flesh

Dilated entirely by the absolute & eloquent
Profile of desire

                                  *

A doorway at the tunnel of the body
More luminous than the mind

Where he stood before her every filament ablaze
Every lens of consciousness et cetera

                                   *

The molten speed of the moment signaling
The arrival of their bodies upon a shifting plain of stars

So blank not even the shadow of the moon might arrive
Without some suture of surprise