You split your lips against my face
And morning shatters about our heads
And broke the silence with your breath.
We hang the floating shards from words –
Unclean, unkempt, unformed –
As the shadow of a sparrow crosses our eyes
And joins our cracking voices in song.

The linens smile in wrinkled grace
Like kindly elders above a child
Guiding the naïve to their fate.
Your hair glides calmly past sun beams –
Unsoiled, unspoiled, uncut –
When your laughter at my longing slices the air
And shakes my ego clean from me.