September 25, 2019

• rarely now

  

  rarely now, i dream
  of being loved
  amidst mounds of white flowers
  crossing seven rainbows
  and bending the four winds
  to sounds
  unknown in any language

  the shape of love
  is unmapped in any geometry

  i once loved you
  beneath a cobalt sky
  with its first visible stars

  last night i dreamed you held me
  as shadows lengthened in proportion
  to the shortening of the days
  until there was nothing left
  but etchings and lines
  in pen and ink

  the lowering heavens
  crumbled and fell
  into the space
  where passions are measured only
  by their inexpressible intensities

  i don't often let myself remember
  how it felt to believe i was loved--

  it was the second-best part of my life
  that carried the beat of my heart

  • 5:44 am
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