Lightning lives
between your fingers,
flashing silver inside
a handful of night
suturing blood
with exigence
through a needle’s eye,
with one hand kissed
by a shower of shrapnel
and the other twisted
in an infinite thread
tunneling light with
sublime precision.
Your needle
closes each gap open
with the cloth of Love
being woven
and each gap closed
holds me in this
lancinating tension,
as I slumber deep
in the currents of
your halcyon arms,
this world remains
tender and unbroken.
“There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.” ― Bram Stoker, Dracula
