Sean Labrador y Manzano

Calla y Calla

I am a scale by which your body floats lithe and buoyant under

the dense canopy of mossy live oak shading the Amphitheater

Shouldn’t we perform our defiance for onlookers

jogging between rest stops

fixing our positions into stone?

How remarkable you stretch above me

Gravity is a state of mind, beyond thought,

anchored in a belief

that centers of mass flex then break

when stressed beyond vision

I have fallen asleep to your voice,

but you misread

my conduct as dismissive.

Your voice is sanctuary,

a place I can inhabit,

a warm shroud.

Now I am about to fall into

the emptiness of your possibility,

folded into your arms,

bending the air, instructing

my body to lift the air with you,

like the meniscus, an insoluble needle,

retracing the sonograph

of our diminished selves,

a crepuscular horizon, we are transparent

Where else can we meet in winter,

and orbit a persuasive constellation,

listening to the quietude of its clusters,

and maybe ease the ampolleta passing

judgment over our time together.