she pales against the dawn,
shrinks from those ripe tongues of daylight
into the shadow’s long yawn, where waits
her intuition; she sees and nurtures
into my desire.
these days are ours,
full of strength and decision,
a body of pistons
pumping fuel into fired chambers,
pushing steam toward momentum and song.
how long has it been?
how long can it be?
and does that matter now,
in our finest stretch,
the one that puts us, finally,
at a place of grown acceptance.
Posts
Wow. I love it. Chris
ReplyDelete