Because of the dirge in the dance, because of the salt in the wave, because of the fading glow of the perfect ring, you have rarely shared the full warmth of your love, but now you do … and so, in the sunset spell of something silently sexual, at the end of a day that is not the end of us, your eyes say to me: ‘Let’s go where the stars undress, let’s feel the flow and risk of the eternal river.’
Here, is where I am, and where I’ve come to see you, while the light remains, and there is time enough to embrace it;
here, where the ebb tide leaves its mark on the breathless face of passion, and the day lays bare the trembling world before us;
here, where a blue wave burns its fingers on the shingle of a shore it can’t hold onto, and where you walk alone in December’s dark light;
here, where you ponder the graceful dexterity of limbs no longer clinging to the rainy edges of a mountain, and where the glow of youth has faded from your hair;
here, where you are mulling over the marvel of your marvelous body and its slow descent from heaven to this gold labyrinth that has stolen all your dreams;
here, where you live a life of rigid self-control, and are less dismissive now of those dizzying desires driving fireflies to their doom;
here, where you fear the spectre of some dark unending nothing, and where you strive sometimes to unfreeze that flowing world beneath your veil of ice;
here, where you are sitting among the rocks in your blue robe, and only two small buttons away from baring all;
here, where my heart is a wind wrapping itself around the dead heat from your marriage bed, and where everything will happen if you only give the word;
for here is where I am, and where I’ve come to meet you, while the light remains, and you are ready now to enflame it.