there have been two nights
one here, one there
to which we have brought
our observant and curious selves
nights a week apart, now weeks past
that said yes as much as no
less as much as more
and left questions slithering
through the unquick grasp of answers
we each revealed what scraps remain
from the wounded and aging parts of us
that still pulse with shy hope,
scattering them as offerings
on the altar of our incredulity
that years of small talk
seeded such fierce embraces
these fragments may not be enough
to forge a key that unbolts the hatch
we must pass through
to find a language given only to us
and the courage to speak it
even if luck and daring allow us that far
still we might fail to secure
any number of bowlines tossed
across the chasm
between your hopes and mine
yet I, nonetheless, will place
into the palm of your reticence
an invitation to join your fears with mine
and shape these unknowns
into oars we might row
through deep, mysterious waters
in a boat we have yet to name
No comments:
Post a Comment