Thursday, December 20, 2007

Until Dark

What I am going to tell you here
will take me until dark
and the white yawn of a moon grown weary
will be upon your cheek
only
when I have spoken enough galaxies
to contain it.

You will not sleep
until blackness has overfilled the western trees
and spilt upon the blue hems of night
bleeding upwards to God,
who is also listening.

Then when I have finished
we will both exhale
and our sleep-breaths will become tides
seeking out the hollow places and secret caves
to fill and recede,
fill and recede
lapping hard against the stony wall of morning.