Climbing You
I want to understand the
steep thing
that climbs ladders in your
throat.
I can't make sense of you.
Everywhere I look you're
there-
a vast landmark, a volcano
poking it's head through the
clouds,
Gulliver sprawled across
Lilliput.
I climb into your eyes,
looking.
The pupils are black painted
stage flats.
They can be pulled down like
window shades.
I switch on light in your iris.
Your brain ticks like a bomb.
In your offhand, mocking way
you've invited me into your
chest.
Inside: the blur that poses as
your heart.
I'm supposed to go in with a
torch
or maybe hot water bottles
& defrost it by hand
as one defrost an old
refrigerator.
It will shudder & sigh
(the icebox to the
insomniac).
On there 's nothing like love
between us.
You're the mountain, I am
climbing you.
If I fall, you won't be all to
blame,
but you'll wait years maybe
for the next doomed
expedition.
