7.17.14
I’ve come to meet you here, in some sacred place
to be here alone with you
beautiful waker:
luke deep eyes opening to the moonlight
awake
-
But not alone
because I sit with you beneath the thousand gazes of stars
I hold you close with my ears
this golden hour )))) between )))) trees,
throwing your voice
with the crickets
waiting
for the space between us to throw it back
-
Individual, but never separate at the smallest level of things,
sharing together the energy of multicolored levels
-
and we remember, making our way through the dark:
-
this world is unforgiving
and we were wild and alive,
in this place I have known you always
-
In this place, I keep for you
The secret of the leaves
We are not alone in our despondent footsteps toward a truer North
but, I will help pave a path for you and your losses
unfold the pages I had folded
kiss a bruise underneath my hand
relax with disappointed youth onto another
and tell me, that
you don’t enjoy being lost inside all that passes
it is here, this sacred place
we throw our burning hearts into the empty creekside
and we build better homes at the roots of trees
*the sky is no longer surrounding us
the birds look to one another to retreat home
we both put things in our pocket without noticing the other
a low roar of emptiness from one point to another
in the distance it is clear that all you know is relevant
and I say, to myself, these things,
and you say to yourself, these things
no one else could know*
and you would say; out loud
“I loved him”.
and I would kiss the silence that came after
because I still love too
fever in your honesty,
pulling teeth from the names you carry
woven in your clothes
I sit alone with you
spreading the silence that reaches from our toes
outward into the
dark
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 2:34 AM UTC
7.17.14
I’ve come to meet you here, in some sacred place
to be here alone with you
beautiful waker:
luke deep eyes opening to the moonlight
awake
-
But not alone
because I sit with you beneath the thousand gazes of stars
I hold you close with my ears
this golden hour )))) between )))) trees,
throwing your voice
with the crickets
waiting
for the space between us to throw it back
-
Individual, but never separate at the smallest level of things,
sharing together the energy of multicolored levels
-
and we remember, making our way through the dark:
-
this world is unforgiving
and we were wild and alive,
in this place I have known you always
-
In this place, I keep for you
The secret of the leaves
We are not alone in our despondent footsteps toward a truer North
but, I will help pave a path for you and your losses
unfold the pages I had folded
kiss a bruise underneath my hand
relax with disappointed youth onto another
and tell me, that
you don’t enjoy being lost inside all that passes
it is here, this sacred place
we throw our burning hearts into the empty creekside
and we build better homes at the roots of trees
*the sky is no longer surrounding us
the birds look to one another to retreat home
we both put things in our pocket without noticing the other
a low roar of emptiness from one point to another
in the distance it is clear that all you know is relevant
and I say, to myself, these things,
and you say to yourself, these things
no one else could know*
and you would say; out loud
“I loved him”.
and I would kiss the silence that came after
because I still love too
fever in your honesty,
pulling teeth from the names you carry
woven in your clothes
I sit alone with you
spreading the silence that reaches from our toes
outward into the
dark
The first few stanzas were written side by side in a forest with Lee Turpin.
The rest, I finished
