in the moonlight, the fire still glows
tempting
all my eyes
to land
on it
and see
that we are all afloat
amid the murky water(s)
and though you float away
on that caravan of "I"s
I still see you guiding the oar
with great affection
and though
our drifting is not through
I have let you
take the anchor
of my heart
out
My love,
as I sit between the ocean
and that angelic, dancing, smoldering
I rap my head hard
against the surface
that comes between us...
I cannot see
out
among the flames, any darkness
nor light
it is all fantasy
sweeping the current of my real dreams inside of me
and I hold fast
to that awe
coming up from the stone speakers
and the flesh of fiery ash still pulling oxygen from the air for its journey
my love
my bath is your art, and your arms, and your ardor
though you have sunk it
like a legend
worth burying
I still journey
to the ides
to see it stir
I still watch over the embers
as if they were dragging me forward into a form I once remembered
I am still dangling my heart
like butter
into the wave
of your croissant heart
it is torture
to watch you throw it away
each buoy
a transcendental meeting
but your oar
still holds
the definite skill
of one
who came
in certain business
all ways point to the one
even as I dredge this river
I am not seeking your yes
so much as
I seek
what is certain
to surface
Love
that Great Ordeal, Love.
It is Certain
I will find it
here
and anywhere
I look.
Your Beloved
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