(After Julian Gracq)

The mist rises from the wetlands and wreathes the goalposts –
thickened air blurs the stars – (they won’t see you []) familiar is
around, behind, but not ahead. See how the mist draws a
line in the air and beyond that line is another place, an
opposing shore that whispers strangely in a voice that is like []
tears gathered behind your eyes, the ache of your tongue for
[] how I pursue through the night, down the
winding path; this foreign place where [] how I long to
feel with my hand outstretched before me the air change and
thicken, become substantial underneath my fingers – I ache
with longing to [] transgress that invisible line
which is always one step ahead; like

drunks spilling out into the night finding the air
thick with meaning like molasses; sticking to faces, to throats;
lips tremble to be kissed so [] forcefully by the world. Stepping
out they raise their hands to grab this voluptuous night and [] oh
she eludes them somehow; the air is heavy with alludes to her but their
trembling arms are still empty. Let’s roll on let’s roll on after her
one more (time) one more glass will surely rent the veil entirely and
the dark fairy queen will come and take us as [] Bite me, scratch me,
rend me (who whispers? me/you/her) let the night transgress our flesh and
take us like [] take us as her her slaves/lovers/food till we are
no longer separated from one another like

flesh and world and others are now. Blood longs for air calls so
urgently from tingling veins and [] (rend your flesh) transgress this
paper (skin) thin wall between the world and [] all that is
inside will come out and you will be nothing anymore please I want []
Flesh longs for touch – I am porous, reaching; if our skin touches
the charge will dissolve me and I will [] Always still one step ahead
the boundary of you the permeable/impermeable quantum state
of your longing for me. The mist encircles and everywhere is
other and I spin with my fingers out but

transgress/ed.