Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Exodus 33: In Writing

stripped at the portal
the receding gaze forlorn
without, distant as winter light
within, banked embers of cold
us, locked in the doorway
to watch the shimmering form of loss

Darling, beating in the crevice,
within the shadow of the stoop
show me yourself
raise me in your face
or let me sink into the socket of nonseeing
the soft embrace of forking paths
expanding endlessly

How do I love thee,
can I count the ways?
Be a place for me
In your heart
In your eye
let me sit in the
flicker of your lashes
the darkness of your lids
the shadow at the edge of being

We walk within each other

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