nothing more profound
than this:to be squeezed awake
at the witching hour, with rain-drizzled
moonlight in the slatsto be taken closer into
the warmth of your lover
as he whispers:god i love you
still halfway in sleep, he speaks this
and the tightness on your sternum
is the heaviness of love.
persistence of being
and here is the blunt truth of it:
I will not live without you.I will breathe
and I will walk
and I will fade with the years
but I will not live.should the atoms in our bodies
see fit to disperse
I will follow you
and I will live in the spaces
between your electrons
and your affections.
if I write about you
it is because you are my kind of mysteryand I wish to try my pen
at sorting you out.