i name you empathy
that wears your black dress
deep in my very eyes
the nurse with the soft
cool hands
that hold me when I moan
verbose little hands
little fists
that hold her spirit tight
you write my never-son
to life
while I tape the door-frames
as if I hear him weep
and I look for you
where churches fail
we are refugees from
allen’s lost battalion
that meet in stanza seventeen
to howl
you are in my mouth
when black pearls scratch
at my teeth
gathering themselves
like grandpa’s german consonants
i would dwell in your bell-jar
to moot mute misery
when dark stanzas build
like lead on the horizon
i am not her
but my arms
my forest
hold you both close
dear girl
i hold you close
in a soft pouch
with a lock of hair
a poem for a never-child
a hug for her
a dried orchid
a pinch of earth
and hope
no black-cat-bone for me
i am visible
entrails gleaming like poe
for you
dear girl
i will be no Sylvia
no anne
but work that tired bellows
as if I could burn
with a fire like yours
that wakes my pump with lightning
that heals my scars
and paints my northern sky
with lights that dance
among a million stars
i was praying
without a god
until I plucked you
like a willing rose
from a lush constellation
of stars
to show me how a spirit shines
in the dark
when chaste and loving words
collide
like ours
*
a response to -
http://allpoetry.com/poem/4391357
Gold trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Love, Lane
