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

    Page 8
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    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


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