Tectonic

you 

my seismic sibling 

in your tectonic tantrum 

have unearthed 

me 

so 

i 

am 

no more parent 

to my visions of liberty 

nor this cryptic urge 

to 

be 

done with 

embalmed or 

blended in pregnant lava 

where you bloom 

i know you 

as 

a 

crimson stain 

on my obsidian dreamscape 

a pyroclastic flash of 

hope or fear 

I put you on my tongue a thousand times 

As Matsuo once wisely said to do 

I put you on my tongue a thousand times 

And each time was familiar and new 

A thousand times, a thousand tastes, and you 

Were the same delight, same simple sublime 

So, I know what Matsuo said was true 

Each time the bitter-sweet, strong, tangy brew, 

Kande* tea or gin and tonic with lime, 

Saturates my senses in sassy revue 

Whenever some intangible ink is strewn, 

Some trace across that lithe and lovely frame, 

I must sample as Matsuo would do 

And swallow the breath that escapes from you 

Your voice is mine, my memory, your lines 

If words were women, they would surely sue 

What I cannot divulge, you have divined 

I put you on my tongue a thousand times 

As Matsuo once wisely said to do 

And each time is familiar and new