we've come to animals-
breeding desire where it lay,
be it rooftops, foyers or the
floor.
Speaking rhythms to calm
my nerves and a quake of
a song to catch my eye.

if some sunlight sparks
within our shadows. . .
i wish i could just find
your shoulder or even
brush of pinkies.

but where is comfort when we;re out
beyond our betters?

I make out only a small figure
of bellwoing winds although there
is no wreckage within sight.

I'd grow my hair out to the floor
and sleep while still and crying
at your feet, if I ever thought
that you might leave.
I'd scatter ashes to mark our paths,
and collect them all right back.