intersecting planes and Us

once upon any given place
we were so close there was friction in our absence
and there we stood,
overlooking our whole lives.

i say 'we' because, in combination, we have:
two homes,
four hands,
two voices
twenty-four ribs
too many eyelashes--
one perspective as we fall,
one as we fly,
one as we leap

[one heart and half the blood any two people should possess.]

Industrialize Me,
says the dreamer to the world:
Jump,
says the grounded to the sky--

We,
say the two on the skyscraper
on the fringe of permanence,
Are Only Where We've Been Falling So Far.

[Diving, says the observer,
Skyscrapers are built for Swan-Dives.]

the act of moving-

i wrote a song a long time ago
about stale air and beautiful people.
it was wonderful in a
paper-in-the-atmosphere kind of way,
i-made-something-for-you;
my hands toil because
you are a work in progress.

i love you increasingly as i put you together,
you stand still like a model or
a tree, awaiting my touch--
won't you let me run my cold fingers
along perfect rose lips,
open my mouth against sharp collarbones,
leave dusty fingerprints where our hips lock?
how could you,
lightning-human as you've always been
and i confess;

i think i would like to be electrocuted
by your skin
every day
until i
die.