All is quiet and
All is still
And the thick curvature of these hills
Rolls on against a starlit November night.

Spirit boy
Draw me in
Hands gentle as the midnight wind
Caress the contours of my chest
Like earth against my skin

Or flames that lick
And bend.

You are born where mountains begin
And your soul is both stone and sky
And quiet laughter ringing through the infinite galaxies
Of your eyes.

Spirit boy
I can feel
Your heart is beating

Wild

And I am pressed against your wildness like a desperate tide

And I will spread and rise and crest and break
Against your hardened precipices like the raging river
Against the rocks.

And when
From the highest perch above the valley
The
Hawk
Takes
Off
And the untamed horses run

I will grip these sheets and scream

And lose my breath
When you press into me,
Trembling,
Like a heavy mallet
On the sacred drum.