Saturday, December 05, 2009

Circadian


Nourish me
on a whim.

Let me drink the
liquid spectrum of
your glee, and

feed the sunrise
every dull chord
in your scale

before the hour's end.

Scratch your way out
of my chest --

rough and dry.

Bloodshot cadences of
foreign lives still linger
in the fabric of a train seat.

Iteration of intent. You fool:

there is no such thing as
"same" in the aftermath
of play.

I resent

tiptoeing on the tightrope
of your breath.

In the frenzy of your hunt,
I'll be sleeping at the zenith
of a clock hand.

Future promised;
body withheld.


Copyright ©2009 Anna Piutti

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Full circle


It felt as dazzling as the first time
when severed sighs pried pupils
wide agape.

In my veins,

truths unfolded to
the pull of
time unhinged.

Afraid of the dive,

we lingered in a lukewarm
socket until light burst
out of hand.

Now, as you surf

the intermittent void where pitch
and tone are sundered, my lips
speak out within the strobing sun.

We pick up speed, then let
our frequencies converge,
and halt:

the wall dissolves.

Again.


-To my loved ones who are no longer "here"
-

Copyright ©2009 Anna Piutti

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Four hours


When I fell backwards
in the vestibule of speech,
loud and starched like
an unuttered joke,

the air grew dim.

And as each breath
anesthetized
the night,

I tasted mouthfuls of
torpor.

I knew

a moment of scuffed
quiescence
would suffice

to drench my throat
with radiance;

to hurl me into the midst
of a chromatic whirl.

When I tapped into the
synthesis of resonance and heat,
I took your hand --
we rode the wave.

And the clock had just struck nine.


Copyright ©2009 Anna Piutti

Published in Muse Café Quarterly - July 15, 2009

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Anew


Submerged by
liquid stillness,

we mute
the looping theme
of recollection.

Be
blank.

Our mirrored strokes
discard
each tingling residue
of turbulence.

Let go:

these pupils
aren't trapdoors.

For once in this glide,
innocence means
voiceless triumph,

and stainless gazes
trigger shifts
in luminescence.


Copyright ©2009 Anna Piutti

Thursday, March 19, 2009

In the backstage


It is delicately wild
to lip-sync the movement
of a heart --

there, on the other side,
where no floodlights blind.

Only there does breath prelude
waves more powerful than laughter,

as silence shatters thought
into transparency.

Here, where illusion isn’t praised,
no truth, no flaw is concealed
from the discerning eye.

It is here that I stand,
here to stay,

unmasked

before you.


Copyright ©2009 Anna Piutti

Published in Muse Café Quarterly - July 15, 2009

Sunday, February 01, 2009

Noise


Layer after layer,
gloom gurgles through
weary senses.
It spreads like oil, and binds to
every atom

to infect,
to obscure.

I find myself second-guessing
the obvious, retracing my steps
a thousand times, lest syntax
betray me.

And I struggle to broadcast
vital signs through this static;

and I pray
that my truth won’t be too maimed
when it reaches you.

Copyright ©2009 Anna Piutti
Published in DY Magazine on June 1, 2010.