caving to fill in blistering flens of brilliant dying instantsβ
,"I love you." the sand a beach occasionally the back seat of an old car the sleep fitfully morning of rising too early into your mouth a flower gleams by broken of silence sunburnt and smelling of aloe rubs with the cool rub of coiled muscles , . ; (my Dear w e will die) the night will trun upon a blade of light; our skin will bunch into delicate rills of dry coils and dust become. . . .
BUT,
dear i will hold (you) that impossible violence of the first quiet moment of your lips that i held slightly in my own i will hold it in my heart that unbroken stem of your frail laughter of supple vibrance made my dear i will recall the hurt wildness of your eyes and bruise of your soft voice my dear i will hold in my tiny hands the vast pulpit of your hairsong and bloodpoem my dear i will forget not the dull and moments each i will remember the early mornings and lashed travail of each lashing voice.
(My Dear I Will Hold You. I Will Carry You. INTO THAT NEAT DARKNESS . i will cup the serene mystery of every stupid minute of our body and dear i w i l l