Rising above me,
spread your wings, spread them
out where I can see them,
spread them.
Rising over history and the violence
that we ran from on on a tongue,
on a long passionate tongue,
along the wall
and in each other,
from a need for silent falling,
parting from a third woman;
she is nude and bathing
underneath you:
spread your wings, spread them,
out where I can see them.
…
I have a sum
of violent divisions
and the necessary force
and a reasonable voice,
that is reasoning,
up against the water-wall,
the wall of water,
spread your wings,
out where I can see them.
I’ve lost sight of returning,
pins and a fulmination,
pins held between my lips
and in my teeth;
aren’t you squirming underneath
the necessity of a silent thumb,
where you spread your wings,
spread them?
…
Any other man
and the feather of his heart,
his wet heart,
any other can
silently pull you in,
hoist you on a fly-line
up into the tower, so you will
seem to be appearing.
I am looking, I am staring.
Spread your wings.
Out where I can see them,
spread them.
…
We are walking slowly.
We anticipate the police.
They will take us up against the water,
between the teeth of the western wall,
and the lips of the east.
They have a sun
staring at us all.
And a violent christ-figure.
And a circus of nails and
steel furnaces. And a bullseye
painted on a blackboard stand.
Spread your wings, spread them
out where I can see them.
Spread them.
…
Your contractual obligations,
spread your wings,
out where I can see them.
I’ve lost sight of returning,
returning to the scene,
once in, once out of the water,
shooting after the shooting,
spread your wings, spread them
out where I can see them,
running, taking recourse,
the necessary silence,
out where I can see,
spread your wings, spread them
falling slowly,
spread them.
