I spill my blood across the hands

Of your ever-present, effervescent sentry.

We have a love that reinvents itself

A love like death without comparable end.

You are a fountain, a well of incendiary ink

Wherever our fractions meet, there is fire.

Each night I brace for sleep,

For the cold armless shadows drinking

Secretly of my quiet breath.

For the moment I am alone.

My eyes skim warped surfaces,

My lips gesture incoherently at a satellite

That has sweetly forgotten itself.

How could you forget her

When she has been afforded

No such luxury?

Would you forget the stars if shrouded?

How these veils embezzle and confound!

Beauty must be wept to be understood.

For each revelation another claws

From the breech of what was thought

To be a grave, a grave never lies

A grave never seeks for what

It does not know it is content to ponder.