2010. jan. 20
How long have I loved You?
I wonder beneath an ashen winter sky.
Breath wreathes like smoke,
tendrils rise to touch your face.
You exhale sweet clean cold.
Unknowing.
How long has my skin
sought the stroke
of your river-hands?
More then the count
of days
we’ve spun,
softly glowing stars,
in this lovely orbit.
Lifetimes before,
in torrid dreams of
wakeful yearning;
in renting cries
rising from deep
inside where waited
one small vivid
spark of desire,
banked in cold years of wanting you.
I’d held you in my cells -
Tendon and bone marking the days till you.
If I’d known then
I need only ask,
my fingers would have traveled
the planes of your brow,
in gentle wonder,
long before we started
this shimmering journey
through the circles of day.
I would have touched your lower
lip long before we turned in
surprise
that one impassioned
summer day.
