Tastes Like An Alder Fire
Sunday, December 07, 2014
When a Stranger’s Skin
Tastes Like An Alder Fire
Diana Hayes – This is
the Moon’s Work
When a stranger’s skin
tastes like an alder fire,
when he tastes like
dusk, mid-July, orca’s oil seeping in the inlet, bodies
languishing on yachts
as the halyards keep rhythm for a sheltering sun
When a stranger sails
his schooner snug into the harbour,
walks you down the
night beach, tide up beyond the rocks slipping,
helps you find your
footing with his hands, fine whiskey in a glass, no shoes
When a stranger tears
the shoulders from your dress clean,
kisses the pit of your
arm while the fire flames alder in the sand, dances
both hands in slow
circles past your knees, kisses again the pit in your arm wet
with mid-July heat and
smoke
When a stranger calls
you Undine, calls you fey, tells you Paracelsus knows no
Alchemy for this, pours
sea water in your hair, mercury rises and licks the sand
from your face
When a stranger speaks
a tropical language, intonation of consonants,
Measured breadth in
tongues, speak words from a forbidden book, chants
the chorus from his
throat, words rising and falling like an oboe on the wind,
nearly decipherable
Cuando la piel del forastero sabe a fuego del
eliso
Forastero, mío, cuando te deslizas entre el
crepúsculo
y la noche,
tu piel como estrellas de alabastro que se
muevan
bajo la mirada de la luna llena,
como seda entrepierna, bebiendo el elexir
salado,
bebiendo el hambre de mis hojos
Mi, forastero, intrépida sirena de tantas
canciones, la cera ‘
de Ulises se ha caido de mis oidos
Y ahí encuentro tu lengua,
El calor, ancho como el arco de la playa, el
calor quemando
el mástil, quemando el hambre de his hojos,
el calor de tu sexo
that’s what
he says
When a stranger takes
you into his net and bends you until you think you will
Break, bends you clear
to the moon, swallows you whole, drinks your sighs,
Bends you more
Breaks your heart when
he leaves your harbour, leaving the taste of the alder fire
on your tongue, in
your hair, everywhere the taste of smoky skin, your legs
dripping the night,
When a stranger’s skin
tastes like an alder fire, all next day
Cuando la piel del forastero sabe al fuego del
eliso
