1. I love you when your voice drifts into my sleep
larger than the centurial dust that we keep
between us
on smokescree nights like these
–
when we lie so near
yet so distant
from each other’s reason
–
and the love we fling to the wind
reminds us each of a child
who tries to feed a pigeon
with the crumbs of thrown stones
–
but stuns what they set out to hold,
with the hurt that casts over
the others intention
like the body and skin
concealing what we will never own
–
2. I love you when the touch of your mind pools
in the warmth of your blood
and you remember again
the euphony of our disparate heart
–
so I might think
that you only let the window
to the universe of this glass house
called love, open the blink of its curtains
–
only if we part,
–
where our love is a foundling
foundering in the sea of us
–
and from there
you look back at me
with eyes licking the brine of my fears
with hands brushing so evanescent
along the locks of my mind
–
that the color of sense
is any tsinginingini thing
splaying Into everything
–
for a defenseless second
–
when I feel the presence of our love
in all you have forgotten
–
3. I love you in the mornings when I lie asleep
under the papyrus reeds
and you gaze into me so fiercely
that the lines buried in my face loosen
into the oasis of your lips
–
I wake up then
when we remember
the dune grass dance of love
–
whispering through the tendrils
that curl outward around us
–
listen or you will lose me