Saturday, December 7

You, In Your Calm

How light fills the bottom of
raindrops settled upon the glass
Of a train bound for the North
of a distant land.
Your eyes are a kaleidoscopic window
I can use as my compass
On the long trip before me—
Please hold tight my hand.
The windows of a city I fear to leave
are honey-combed squares of gold
Against a black backdrop of buildings
too tall to climb.
The wheels of this transport
are iced-over moulds
Of shells that lived once,
that counted the beads of time.
Why is there sorrow in your voice?
The way you frown—
It brings an ache
to my own pale heart.
White fingers trace your sighs,
touch the line of your crown.
Did I pull you with me
to this place where shadows dart?
No, you came of your own volition,
with knowledge of the chance.
How deep my love of you still glows—
You, in your calm.
There are dangers in letting
infatuation dance,
But I feel your name always on my lips—
a sacred psalm.

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