I trace the crescent of your back,
the kiss, vajra tongue,
erupts the inside out of my body
the sky alive inside us.
Between midnight and blue-golden slumbers,
the stillness of the night, the tide moves
your body inside mine; a house of songbirds uncaged,
rattling pine cones, loping coyotes
red mountains dance aross rattlesnake trails
everything coming back to me
winter branches hold night as you sleep
hitting my knees on the bench,
cheek and eye on a doorway
lost in all your maleness,
I walk outside to feel the cold
everything in me becomes weightless
pierced in a full measure of tenderness.
My father is dying--
St Francis stands in juniper berries,
pink glades of light in the stairway.
Did I believe this layer of skin would keep me apart--
A friend from a thousand years returns, takes my hand
pulls me out of the earth into his bed
which is soft, dangerously soft.
In a place of many rainbows
tasting the blue air inside us,
velocity, circles of wind,
what do we know…
We rest above the clouds,
the mountain stands in fallen light
my hair full of stars
the sky alive around us,
a song through the ocean
trying to shake us out of ourselves
into the long brilliance
past midnight and drift.
The bedrooms wall mirror of what is real; stars from all sides; everything is made beautiful.