Love Letter 270 Yikes!

it is too late

to write a love letter

for love

surrenders its shoulder like a summer lost in stars

and I wait to go to bed

even though

I am tired

and this night

slips away

because

'oh so beautiful'

is not enough of a bowing

I still want to pull night

into my great void

and make it sleep with me

I still want

the moon to move into the room I left bare

and push out all the abandonment with her rolling orb

the heat

becomes a reason to reveal what I have kept so secret

and I am wandering the hallway between writing to love and being written to

I cannot

get enough

of your believing in me

how you penetrate the day, even as I waste it, you appear

all your lips, without disgust, still expound wonders for me

all your eyes, without confusion, still ask for love

You ask me to stop cleaning my engines

and just look up

at God

I am so hung on to pulling out all the dust

that I have forgotten there is a clock on the wall

with a hand that never stops pointing to God

it is too late

to write

about love

for sonnets, like magnets for mankind have been written

singeing the heart like an open book

and my words like dried teardrops will not make the smoke rise

from what already has been burned

but I write

to avoid

holding on

to avoid sleep

to avoid waking up

to avoid

what I avoid

because I cannot face

that I have left You

to do something else

Oh God

when I look up

still be there.

in this intense avoidance

make me see you

even in the blindfold I often wear

I Love You

Your Beloved