Read Such Deliberate Loveliness: Collected Love Poems of Paul Hina 1997-2006 Page 8

water might run is too

  difficult to translate while experiencing

  the constant amazing thrill of the

  universes your fingers can expose

  on my body simply through making

  believe we deserve the worlds that

  float around us when we embrace

  so if in falling away you were to

  cause these little lands to sink

  then how could i understand the

  concept of god without the fluid

  we consume when lying so close that

  nothing else can be eaten but

  dreams that float dangerously close

  to the edge of forgetting that we

  had ever ruled separating countries

  second rose

  the closer we get. to owning the embrace

  of wedding dances is hovering a song to

  be plucked from the liquid heaven sky of

  the fruitless whisper our hands tend to

  make when they collapse onto each other's

  flesh

  and when that song falls there will be an

  unclosing where each perfect noise will

  scatter sounds like windows around us where

  there can be collected an audience that

  will become witness to the white music calmly

  pursuing the ravage our bodies push into

  when we meet to play

  somewhere a sound dreams what we have become

  in this glass house's speckling sun onto

  us like hot raining gold

  somewhere a sound experiences beautiful, and

  it is in the rumors of hands that you

  invented it from softening all that surrounds

  you

  somewhere sounds like forever when you are

  near

  third rose

  when in our bed and drifting with

  newly enveloped sleep to opposite sides

  of this dream we have there we come

  always together again with previous

  chilled bodies succumbing warmth

  something unaware of its enormous worth

  finds growing inside itself a certain

  delicious taste with each flesh my tongue

  discovers before we, in the darkness, sleep

  inside these sensual lights we become while

  twisting arms for the dance of kisses

  believe in me always to, and never for, the

  days when the numerous strings we find tying

  us into hearts remain ablaze while giving

  this lifetime another day you breathing me

  and me breathing you

  fourth rose

  little worryings hither and fro

  all the while the walls of the

  theater of love remain still and

  upright as a setting for the first

  of playing out the many acts of

  understanding how it is we need to

  contemplate each other when longing

  in presenting dialogue with lights

  covering the intense whitening of

  this scene's snowy dust that merrily

  dances in and out of my stammers

  stuttering as many little love you's

  in such a fragile run towards carefully

  protecting one verbal affection safely

  cupped between my two hands for any

  new breathing you might exonerate from

  the numerous dramatic depths you contain

  fifth rose

  just a little stay is what i ask

  with salty tongues licking the

  wait so long it almost happens

  a somewhat time longer until our

  kiss splits

  the chemicals of our forms so

  bodily becoming tremendous in

  the intunements we have created

  since our atoms swung together

  into bells

  and the world goes round in a

  box of heads spun always spinning

  circles like dizzy drunks in the

  mist of bliss

  sixth rose

  she is so every only new

  that could ever be tenderly

  swirling her hips towards a

  series of half eaten poems

  called her legs sharing within

  me the religion of leaving one's

  hand on the womb of the reason for

  recognizing existence

  beneath the lungs of her embraceable

  inspiration breathes every love

  around me alive with words to paint

  for her twinges of her most slightest

  gift curling inside me feeling for

  friends

  (there will follow from now a careful

  placement of words so that i may be

  allowed the time to fully contemplate

  that way you move)

  very simply very very

  seventh rose

  her body give me rest minus the why are you

  not in my bed minutes equals and will always

  be without the logic of equation

  and don't forget those perpetual sculpting

  meaningfuls creating precise definitions for

  perhaps something like your hair briefly

  traipsing into my mouth

  as well as the other million and a half tiny

  reasons i'll never pause or stop to not be

  thinking of anything but you (for example

  the noise my body makes when struck by the

  stillness your body's flesh permits me in

  this new enormous world of untravelled space

  we have made where there continues to happen

  a goodness no one else will ever be able to

  unequally know)

  eighth rose

  all the neighbors of my body are

  the many entangled limbs of you

  tying several wishes together

  around me as if to release me of

  all things wanting

  my head buried above breast

  pillows itself inside the soft line

  from your shoulder to your neck

  that seems to be a crease where

  all my dreams (so wonderfully scented)

  have been folded

  and now in this procession of many

  celestials flipping mid-air into

  parades i hear, while carving with

  hovered fingers the shapes of our

  children into the nape of your neck,

  somewhere words spoken that manifest

  an echo that travels elsewhere coloring

  the caves we had previously inhabited

  into the most pleasurable domes of many

  skies falling one after another into a

  single blue streak that calls heaven into

  question

  ninth rose

  a man who hides from needing tenderness

  finds himself sleepy in the calmness of

  the intense feminine water that falls cascading

  into my imaginings when asking what it is about

  those hands that so softly and without method

  dissolves every uncaring that has on me surfaced

  etching a million elusive profiles of each strand

  of hair that animates easily the cartoon curves

  that god gave every woman adding in your singular

  case a hum only i can hear in my chest heaving a

  sing that never guesses a voice that better sends

  me, unnerved, to the uncontrolled pressing we will

  ensue

  i have grown strong in lengths of life without

  sweetness such as the succumbing of a lullaby or

  other worldly warmths other than the beds i have

  stretched by my own jaws lifting into music that

  yawn that only exhales from beneath this lonely

&nb
sp; and yet when on our together with you singing

  into me with the sinking we concur i can't help but

  exaggerate motions of you swimming the channels of

  my mind with that gentle way-you-do you have like me

  being every night born for the first time wrapped

  around your many compositions flying through the air

  of this breathless boy

  and though the pieces i had previously collected

  have collapsed you are there with hush me hands

  (quietly fingers)telling me with that truth life

  knows only inside sleep and i have only really slept

  in the womb i knew of in a long ago woman, whose

  interiors could never contemplate that silent rhythm

  we create awakening these flowers that have rested

  waiting to bloom for you

  tenth rose

  i learn reckless while you are

  away playing many curious melodies

  with those mysterious instruments

  one finds inside himself when he

  suddenly realizes loving you is

  an easy song to sing along with

  and how is it that your music has found

  a better way every day to send me

  tripping to find more of that sound

  just to try and keep up with how

  much the thought of your each and

  every significant billows with ease

  into me always to submerge everyday life

  so as to concentrate on your next

  explosive virtuosity

  i call out your name in each conceivable

  silence that barely registers whispers

  inside this orchestra you have so

  effortlessly intended to come up on,

  against, and through me

  and now my darling i try never equaling

  to match the most unchallenged gesture

  you perform regardless of what it be

  only to surrender into the birds that

  are coming slowly opened from the music

  you gave me where fists filled with

  handfuls of my insurmountable love will

  immediately declare a new thing they

  adore about you

  eleventh rose

  a goneness comes quickly over me

  the minute i think you when there

  approaches the lack of you suddenly

  being away begins to measure the

  countless moments the vision you

  are can't be seen in my eyes

  there are pictures numbering each

  one i am in the many infinities my

  imagination conjures thinking of

  new expressions that could in several

  different possibles across your face

  be invented

  my arm extends in these processes

  testing the ethereal line of fantasy

  where we are muchly the same as

  any fantastic rendering of art or

  divinity making angels with my

  shadowed fingers just to apprehend

  another way to shake some of this

  dribbled scattered everywhere light

  that reflects as many reasons to love

  you as there are stars beyond your

  naked eye

  and in these paradises i conclude

  that though every sliver of time we

  spend with one another itself becomes

  multiplied in its immense pure

  unboundless wonderfuls like the million

  mental movies it produces representing

  what you might do, or look like doing it,

  is what i'll get to enjoy while we're

  away making miracles melt the miles

  into kisses meeting again

  twelfth rose

  these amazing different puzzles we are

  together are many times broken for the

  joy we will concoct in the piecing of

  the learn-who-you-are lifetime that

  stands at the root of the heart we

  are growing into, the life we will

  become

  these bits of person we were live in

  memory of the easily forgettables such

  as where it will go, or where i hoped it

  would be, will fit like comfortable with

  the elegance of the billion believables

  that surface from my flesh with every

  whispering your hands create when they

  speak your fingers as lips to kiss another

  piece of this love into place

  so when it all comes finally together and

  our legacy has left nothing but rings of

  dust i will peer down(from wherever it is

  our home, like the deepest imagined puddles,

  may float) while reaching to embrace that

  brilliant body of yours because that is

  what i will know

  unwrapping snow for sarah

  1

  your kiss exposes me to a world that

  floats in deep never ending bliss where

  we twirl together rolling in a deep salty

  sweat across the sliding fingers of god

  hands that travel all the way to the edges

  of every many stimulation we discover

  my tender folded lips taste your hair

  that dries lazily into slightly curls

  rushing damp again into a singing mouth

  where lips sway into a dancing by old throat

  lights as shadows of a kiss surpass the

  neatly folding over of eternal layers

  where stars glow as bright as newly born

  flesh

  and you paint on me shades of blushed

  heat with hands that drive nails so

  fingerly real into me that truth drips

  from the sharpest tips of knowing forever

  is to taste a woman so ripe that her limbs

  fall from a tree of girl body providing

  her body's fruit so touchably warm as soft

  pastry breathing life fresh as parades of

  dumb blind excitement run miles with a

  speed around a world that crumbles beneath

  us

  2

  i have danced in moments so frequently

  fantastic as forever you reminding me

  that tomorrows are coming where the wet

  breath such as love so quietly whispers

  in the ears of secrets that surround us

  like everywhere snowflakes calming the

  fever of passion soft like the center

  of pleasure rhythms we invent tangled

  in torsos

  in this house of constructed flesh and

  bone is a single body deformed by the

  elegant forgetting of limbs wrapping

  haphazard around the solid nowhere of

  a frantic kiss tumbling into a repeated

  convulsion that slides so silently into

  simplistic embrace

  and when we finish every many eternity

  we have made by splashing body into body

  until we have crashed our last inevitable

  we will simply dance forever while heaven

  admires our subtle collision in a constant

  hesitating snow that continues to fall

  while never touching the ground

  3

  i have held flowers uprooted from the

  earth by the strength in my hands

  i have cupped their delicate wings,

  moistened them within my lips’ subtle

  kiss, trying all i can to keep them

  beautifully a part of the nature of all

  the fragile somethings, flimsy as they

  decorate the eye

  but you are a deeper flower pumping water

&nb
sp; through the body of the garden of all

  flowers that look to you for handfuls of

  sturdy together holding finger fed rain

  with the heated breath of a disappearing

  cloud

  and every newest day warms newborn roses

  with the many colored lines of softening

  that follow it in the springtime beautiful

  you have collected

  but in the absence of my power to truly

  remove you from your home there is a little

  dying that happens in every suddenly that

  loses you again

  there are no hours without your flowers,

  and there is no joy on earth that equals

  the taste of your moist petals sending

  shivers through the dirt of this painted

  growing life

  so, i lie awake through the many nights

  of buried wait while i struggle to glimpse

  always sleep where your drooping rain

  feeds my dry world that will grow from

  your collapsing hands, folding fingers,

  as delicate for me to uproot a kiss from

  you long into the morning

  4

  when time passes so quickly that

  memory fades our lives into quick

  shots of damaged movie i will play

  a projected you, from here to hours

  ending, with the length of your hair

  lightly caressing the hands of images

  past seducing it to fantasy

  when your eyes light up as they

  do discovering a thing so new a

  world spins in their blue glowing

  of white water light dots imitating

  silvery dust in the center of a

  lovely puddle of mirror sitting so

  still only a kiss could take them

  from a journey into drowning lips

  and from those same lips part a

  speaking or a smiling that shares

  a sound so crisply tuned to the

  wind of silent beaches that causes

  a whistle to huddle together with

  a melody to sing a song so constantly

  music as a wave traveling just to

  catch your breath

  again

  5

  in a frame i call window is a clear

  portrait of you that i have stared into

  for an imperfection that i have not

  learned to adore

  and though it is hard to declare even

  the slightest flawed gesture or imperfect

  motion of form i find it harder not to

  lose my way traveling the length of your

  long body curving towards graceland

  there is a swirl somewhere inside you

  that swings like a dancing when you walk

  so slowly a waltz that your running will

  make me fall a little inside tripping to

  catch you without butterflies forming

  like a weapon in my gut

  and though your legs are often resting

  it is still a painful exercise of futility

  not to suggest a looking up and down of the

  smooth surfaces that for a million reasons

  will cause me such headaches trying to

  understand where so imperfect a line is

  so elegantly bent

  and by what tools but your delicate hands

  can they be made so artistic by their

  crossing one over another with the elegance

  of warm clay shaped by god’s own magic into

  everything you

  6

  only in the quiet miracle of

  snow can water fall from the

  many secrets of sky that softly

  conspire to combine a pile so

  white a light that it could, at

  top of sky, glow as bright as

  your eyes softening rain

  all things shining know that

  you are an object so warmly

  gigantic that all things would

  quiver under the brightness of

  your completing electric smile

  and miracles will be hushed when

  following in the shower of your

  sparks always trying to lighten

  their lulls by standing in the

  sparkling dust light of your

  glowing tail of golden sun being

  eclipsed by your constantly cunning

  curves to march with the happily

  snow sharing secrets with the stars

  in the funny of real laughter

  7

  in the wide open arms of memory

  stands an image of you in a spring

  wind so engulfed by the silent

  birth of everywhere flowers or

  crumbs of your loveliest gestures

  exposing every viewable landscape

  to blush a sweeter shade of rained

  on colored glass as lightly moist

  as a picture of perfect pillows for

  dreams of heaven breezes blowing

  slightly more fragrant descriptions

  of the places my mind goes when you

  perform the slightest motion such

  as parting your hair with those

  things so smally judicious as your

  fingers

  and as the spring disappears, as

  pictures tend to do, and you close

  your embrace inside yourself to

  wrap that friendly familiar body

  up in that elegant way you have

  while chilling your mouth into a

  wonderful tiny girlbreath shaping

  that slick flirting smile into

  kisses where the air must memorize

  another glorious season with all its

  new colors of amazing trying always

  to attempt a dream so beautiful that

  it could be seen through the art of

  oceans that flow in your eyes

  8

  i have given thought to the

  construction of a make believe

  palace to hang all the pictures

  of you taken quick in your tiniest

  most isolated poses of daily grace

  so animated by the lovely lines

  drawn by a master so true to his

  craft that your skin is still the

  shape of his softest clay mixing

  a million miracles every time you

  speak or play like a permanent moving

  image of an imagined happiness turned

  perfectly into a giddy little