O Terrifying Empty Love,
I have bared my heart
to Your pistol
(Every bullet tears a hole
to let the light in).

Shivering,
I move slowly into vast white aching space
and uncurl my raw thin fingers
(so weak from all their grasping)
just far enough to accept Your lips
against my palm.

Your eyes are kind, and
These bandages you carry
are drenched in music,
warm with light.
I'd forgotten how soft
Your hands are.

Tears drench us both -
Sweet sympathy.
You wrap me in a blanket woven
from What Remains.
The Spark of What Will Be
Keeps me warm, and I am drowsing.

When I have slept,
Carry me on a bed of earth and feathers
to Your kitchen -
Teach me to make breakfast
from my gratitude.

Human darkness passes from hand to hand on heavy limbs.
We are all shaded things, heavy with shadows;
I will take yours from you, gently,
With soft hands and open ears.

Your sins are familiar - they are mine as well.
But, dear, I prefer the light of you,
The honest moment when (surprised)
you admit that you are not as tired
as you had thought.

Confess to me your colors awhile,
and leave your shadows be.
Tell me the laughing tale
of when you last danced in impossible joy,
Bent in shapes of startling grace.

Let your Innocence stretch its limbs.
I will sit there with you, and perhaps
for a few clear moments
the human darkness of our lives
will soften.

Stretching into the cool
gray morning I am
sentient to the smooth warmth
of companionship long missed -
her smile is faint.

a murmur of affection
mutual from sleep-milky throats
snags in the trammels of her loosely curled hair
as I turn my head against her neck

fingers wide,
her palm travels a
single-minded caress over
hip and belly to the sharp ledge
below a shadow-casting ribcage
and we both hum comfort
greeting the morning
from pomegranate stained lips
and earthen thighs.