Stairtown
I have felt small
and cold
A tiny man
with blue kisses
climbing the lips
of an ice-cube tray
Always down
identical chambers
But now
in part of you
I am large
and wet with dreaming
I have taken the nights
of digging for the sun /
of digging in my arm
and started to fill them
with deep, stretching joy
that grows from the light
you say is in my singing voice
My sadness, I have spit at her
from inside you
from over this shoulder
with wine on its breath
and halfway down
a staircase
that leads into the river
This is my baptism
These are your hands
that move me
in and out
of water
unedit 
“A tiny man with blue kisses climbing the lips of an ice-cube tray”…Nice, I wish I couldv’e written that one.
Hey thanks! Hope you’ll read more.
Beautiful and sensual, really enjoyed this,
eden
Thank you for reading, Eden!
I agree. It is quite sensual. And exciting. Like I’m experiencing things for the first time. After all, “this is my baptism.” I am in love with this poem.
Thanks, man! I have a soft spot for this one as well. 🙂
What the heck man? This is beautiful. Wow. Great piece of work. Blown away.
Awesome comment. Warms my soul.
Hope to see you back around, Noah.
The image of your baptism down a staircase leading into the river is superb.
This entire poem is insouciant. I find that going back over it again it becomes more and more arresting, how you can see your baptism while close to another, in a moment of intimacy.
I am quite impressed, if I may say so.
you may, of course. i really enjoy seeing how you interpret my poems, Jeremy. always gets me thinking.
Reblogged this on The Sand County and commented:
I had to share this and when you read it you will know why. If you are not following Brit tLuttrell, I suggest that you do.
(low, breathy) d a m n