Will the world, restless from my ignorance
be there when I return? I have faced away
from the sun so long, I wonder
will it ever settle nicely onto my shoulders again?
When I have said my piece, will it drive the
weightless stake through my heart
until only affection remains? Will it soften me?
For world, I have done my due diligience
I have recieved absolution for my honesty
and my goodness, my sadness too.
I have been loving and serious - when nobody else was -
about your bright blue and violet hands
which open in the rain
and spread through harsh winter.
I have never once made a mockery
of hard-earned love, but still your silence thrums madly
beyond the reaches of my dutiful soul, thrums
without vocation, without name.
So what god do you serve when the sum of your parts
has halved overnight? What good and decent fantasy
must you starve down
to see clearly the light?
For once I would like you to stop dancing
To be steady and still and calm, and
reveal yourself: your lightweight body
with its abbrasions and multifarious longing.
So I can remember that long time ago
when we were equally new to life, equally dumb, and all feeling
was backscattering.
And I could not laugh or cry or say anything, but
you knew that I loved you.
So where are you, and do you remember my unbreakable bond
with the moon? With the ground? With the tides?
I have never been so close to closing off completely as I was back then
and yet you stood wide open: doors open, mouth agape, hands
stretching towards me. Or must you only come
when I need you?
