in here, the dark

in here                        the dark

not that of night

or of desire

not even of space            or gloom…

but that of slant            

of measure, of tilt            

of lines, of slit

            of curves that lie between                                   

unhands, in here                       

the dark

the lay

the high

the path

the way

            corniche…

in here            

the dark

that wave           

and slip

that flow           

and slide

that grip

that cloy?

it beckons, in here

the dark