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.