this is what i bleed

sun, moon, orbiting each other into infinity:

this is not what i bleed.

i bleed a pale white coin 
to flip-flip, 
sweet kisses on breathing,
beating, warm 
marble.

this is not the usual spectrum.
this is not morning, day, night,
marriage, kids,
this is undertable handhelds, 
underduvet genesis, 
symmetry.

flowers bursting in a sea of anther,
ambrosia gushing in tears of joy
under blessed light. 
stamen and stamen. entwined bloom.
this is what i bleed.

osmosis.
a fallout of linked fingers,
a flooding held in cupped
hands as bright as any other. 
sun and sun again. moon
and moon again. circled
synchronous understanding 
in northern summers: daylight
fades into daylight.
this is what I bleed

in my veins. a carousel
of matching bodies, understanding
in the trace of a palm. 
a glance turns into 
a stare turns into a shout. put
the feeling of our hands together
into an envelope and mail it,
knuckles brushed through. 
this is what i bleed. 

ink. plasma. cosmos
down malachite rivers in my wrists
to bone coasts, to marrow seas
to the singing coast 

of cheek. 

this is a bite from dream-peach,
this is what i am. this is what i kiss-hug-cuddle-breathe-laugh-
touch. this is what i bleed.