I cried as the stars bore low, a listening ceiling of silver rips and pins. There was no moon and they pressed lower and lower still.

And all that could be heard was the ebb and flow of one creaking
breath, one and then another,
going, going;
I was surprised that they were mine.

I pushed myself forth and away from the horror of your love in that coffin of a room.
An epithelalium, a dirge and a hymnal came to me at dawn. It was a birth into a clean white winter.

There is a bright place on the frosted pane where my salt water has melted through;
Though I falter in my steps I know my legs will carry me far away.

Her love spills out like scarlet seeds,
and red wine rolled on jealous tongues,
and gold leaves nestled in her hair.
It feathers during secret deeds

whilst breath is passed between two lungs.
Rubies cluster at her throat
like blood clots that her flesh forgot.
She draws him to her, limb in limb,
a desperate love dressed up in quilts.

The seeds that bloomed may sometime rot,
and candles die, and lust grow dim,
but I dreamt that he'll still gasp her name,
and she wish to be close to him.

I dream of swimming in the sun, in the ebb and flow of your love,
My desire for you outstrips my redeeming qualities. I want to hold you, know everything about you, know your mind fully and suddenly like turning on the lamp in the unseen expanse of a dark room. If I could have just one day more I'd spend it kissing you all over.