Liaison, by Claire Kathleen Weigel 

My legs wind around time’s 

Perfect arms into 

The outward spiral 

Of a good lesson. 

As our body becomes animal. 

There are no introductions and no divisions. We render the divine dance of the clear and the obscure 

Theory melts out of our practiced hands, And it is a generative practice. 

We breathe in spring and out seafoam, Rich with secrets and humming. 

Light and moisture make 

Thinning veils of our failures Of clothes. 

A familiar song leaves your throat And makes a habit of me 

And my unhiding 

Our timing is perfect 

Our bodies threaded by earth 

It is the perfect intimacy 

Of a pianist’s breath 

How birds and wind are always on time, Harmonious, and never interpret the other.. 

We sing this way 

Until time–impatient– has left us 

Until the sheets turn pink 

And even the moon is wet. 

In your portrait you become 

An angel– gauzy and silked 

Loosened from the world 

And sleepy.

Deer plays on the beach, by Claire Kathleen Weigel

Deer plays on the beach 

In green sea foam 

And blue sea pasture. 

Fickle memory 

Lucky thing, 

Still remembers Venus, 

Eats blueberries, and looks around often. 

An orange starfish suckles 

The sweet meadow grass 

From her hind leg, 

and the meadow is forgotten. 

For now, deer plays on the beach in green sea foam 

And blue sea pasture.