Wednesday, April 24, 2013

I Remember Your Name in the Night


When the fantasy and humdrum of a frantic
day chock-full of seconds disappear and all that's left 
is you, is me,
our faces turned to one another,
two names touching in a single space of breath, 
tell me, what else could I have room to do

in the flood of the wealth of your withness,
the riches of your being at my fingertips
suffocating sight?

I remember your name in the night. The colored paint
of circumstance peels back
at the touch of this immortal hand and you are there,
white stone,  
rider on a white, white horse.