You are the ship in the desert sand
The linings engraved in my hand
With the fragile trust I used to hold
The fire that burns my naked soul

In that ship I've been to places
Been to places in my head
Hard places with alien faces
In the soft of my own bed

In my purgatorial with myself
You are the last battle I won
The constant war of withdrawal
Which I lost before it had begun

You are the moon in the morning sky
My white orb when the noon is high
My blazing tempest summer fire
My mind's last dying desire

The pain that no longer lingers
The sand slipping through my fingers
Nights spent in wishful thinking
Remembering tears and fitful blinking

But I thank God that you were born
My perfect floating blizzard snow
My poetry given flawless form
Of whom I so selfishly let go