they say that deathmight comelike a thief in the night,but love knows those pathsthrough the deep mystery too,asking nothing of usbut all we are to give, and waking one morningearly summer lightto find my belly stretched tautmarked welt-red and wildlike the skin of a shadow-play beastrippling with life,i knew this love would be fierce –that…
don’t speak to me about sweet annihilation, about a love, a god that obliterates when we have lived this perfect obliteration our bodies counting moons and seasons – barely able to contain the exuberance of bird song in spring and the quiet perfect longing of winters’ dark night. for generations we have thrown our bones…