21 November 2015

2632

















2632
Reverence is red with desire
For a lover's reciprocation
That has no breath,
Yet is by me breathed:
In the longing is its consummation done,
In my solitary,
And love's bitterness is my portion,
Unpartnered by the other's voice.

01 November 2015

2622

















2622
It's an improbable hour
When I realize where I am,
Not by this path nor that corner lit,
Nor under any sky,
But within a confine wrought
Myself upon my skin.
Yet as the sun that lesser angle makes
To impediments of its light
Am I by my longer shadow pulled,
And the path and the corner lit
And every sky there is,
Within this confine's brought.

2621