posted January 15, 2025
like the end of a taper candle
I hold you in my mouth
they used to measure time
by how long it took to burn
but there is no end of this
necessary for me to anticipate
trust once earned is less
like free fall and more
like flight your iliac crest
the shoulder of a dove wing
what news will you bring me
from land only lately
risen from the flood?
our covenant ark is spacious
and quiet our windows know
as all windows do the shade
of heaven two each according
to our kind we wake we sleep
in this our teak wood boat
the sea everywhere is buoyant
this is what it means both
to be weightless and to ache
to be at once in a chapel made
of countless tropical flowers
and on my knees on rough carpet
in the middle of fields full
of too many sheep turning
green hills to desert