My alpha Beta post...

Red River Drowning

This polished finger
can’t get it right, fingering
the years, greased underneath and
slipping like a slippery fish
into the river.
One finger joins many, a phalanx
laced to the knuckle
yet remaining indistinguishable.
Drowned by each other;
grappling down the muddy banks of the Red,
in our hometown.
Next fall - Found!
The tip of a finger bone, the forefinger
perfectly preserved in the river bank and
mistaken for an arrowhead
showing east.

Bread Crumbs

Emerge from a fan of sheets, chalk and china clay,
spine broke and beautifully worn
with my hand spread in the bow-curve of your back,
pressing you down, stretching, folding you close
as if this were the end of our world.

Fingers laced together like clever roots,
one being; tall, naked, wrapped in ourself.
In the quiet you cling to me like Ipomoea.
You feed me sweet potato and water spinach
and I suck wine from your lips.

Drunk, we lapse back into the leaves,
bruising them red with our footprints
so we will always find our way back
to the beginning.