Blanket of blackest wool above
Bleeding yellow in the out-there
And on the  wooden chairs painted white
we sit to watch.
63 moons glide gracefully
and say the things
that move from tongues to fingertips
Because touch
Lands sooner than the bitter words
It was under the nebulae
Where you gave me a ring
which you slung round a planet
with a ladder and rope
and you gave me a promise that is hung round the sun
so I jump up ride it when it if it orbits me slowly
In a moment of tiny, of small and sooner.
in a moment that's billions
of miles away
so before we we've been born
and before we've been lovers-
a star somewhere tucked our whole story away.
I will find us a night cloud
thick with our longings
and send it out shining to sell to the night.
Yes, I'll pack it up warmly
and hold it quite tightly then send it out sailing on
night after night.




SAHN 07/18