you could have chosen
exile or as a lone passenger
in the transport of time
across vast waters to an isle
uncharted in any map;
kept as a secret, like the poetry
you wrote and i read without
knowing it kissed and caressed
more than just my name and face.  

naked as we were even before  
the dark where we peeled  
from each other’s skin and touch
the cold and dust of yesterdays,
it must have been terrifying to dare
against a fate lonely and beautiful,
still, with an elemental force that raced
to bind wind and sky from north to south
you declared that i, a prisoner of wonder
to how it must be to be loved by you
be set free.  

for this reason, and perhaps only this  

my eyes will always seek and trap the light
for the harvest offered when to you again i gaze,
a pilgrim to the province of memory
where everything that persists: streets,
gardens, houses under the stars
breathes and whispers of you and only you,
as lips will move while my tongue trace  
each syllable of your known and secret name
until for last breathe this mortal heart.