my image pressed neatly into its own forgetting...

my jokes, my sleep, my shadow won't save me
from my past, from love, right now
i urgently issue request into a muchness
that overwhelms me, my winestained teeth
don't smile, don't wink, don't wish...love,
how are you, in what mad awakening must i
search out your face in
my own?

perhaps night, this one, which cradles
us both under its stars and moon, in which
i assume you're alive, chest rising and falling,
out there, warm beds abound, i thought
i was a sad word, let slip
from the mouth
of god.

but, i'm a confession of our arms
together held listing against waveless
catspaw night, silent and blind, with black
as a backdrop: flawless deltas, sparkling
in a lazy let forth, where we can always shed
our sluice of tears
and return
overfull.