i didn’t find you
for it is you that found me
when i hadn’t the words
you hummed a most healing soliloquy
i ran with famine legs to this thing that gave chase
rummaging through weeds to hear your voice, to find your face
to translate this song that longed for a knowing embrace
perhaps it was mere chance but it’s true
in a choir of insects
between the claps of the shade
you shewn the both, those delicate doses of you
as moss upon the roots of the quietest tree
climbing my veins, stowing wisteria as wild as the sea
you sung seemingly a song only sung to me
through parted clouds a most grand marquee
you painted the dawn,
you lassoed the moon
as i ran to your deep
weeping and upon bent knee
in repeated refrain
just as the bottom seemed to fall
the sun did reach and grab hold of my withering wane
with shuttered breath, you swallowed my clouds
taking my storm in unrelenting press
extending your hand,
its softness once again finding me
in its long ago sweet undress

eaten away
tomorrow and today
the litany
is a fine line
a nice white and black whine