What if it was mine?
And from its hiding place it came to me
And asked me to listen to the voice of
In its throat would come the sound of
Mother, beautiful and fine!
There were birds in that religion, blonde
Birds, and light, a short shine and twinkle,
When the churn of my fever scared me
And the moon watched with ashy envy.
What if alone it found the way?
Inspired with a boy's desire to seek the
Shapes of a man in my dark blue heart.
In its eyes would hold the questions of
God, and I would break myself on its
Rocks, and tell what I had to say.
Don’t threaten me with whispers
galore, come and stand by me
and shake my hand, and smile
a little more.
We are not strangers once we
our hearts into the flame and
into the heartache we shove.
How relevant companionship
would be, without the burden
of mourning unto ourselves,
without swollen eyes the rapture
we could see.