Signs from the Liminal: A Poem
Saturday Poetry Prompt: postmodern love signs
A site of bliss is the created. It is not the reader’s “person” that is necessary to me, it is this site: the possibility of a dialectics of desire, of an unpredictability of bliss: the bets are not placed, there can still be a game.
Barthes, The Pleasure of the Text.
We might have met — once — by passing on a strange sidewalk — unable to ignore sparks flying between barely touching hands — coffee growing cold at the complete arrest of the person — feeling into the world the next step — finding it takes us over the threshold into the trees — wild abandon — chasing inertia into an unread book — turning everything into fire…
When the other elements collapse — turn inwards themselves — spreading the walls in here with the sounds of a sequence — turning to alter the broken characters erected in the heart — the wrong statues pulled down now —
so I break another word open — I am scientist and lover here — sketching this opening into distance and possibility — into the full reach and partial abstraction — still becomes a tangibility — in the end — but your hands on the book — on the pulling inside
across thresholds that desire put in — among all our other steps — like how the breath of Barthes tinges the horizon love —…
