december
 
i was born of You 
​
march
 
You were born of me
when i lost sight listening 
then lost evenings answering
the call of just another 
lonely hunter

forever
 
graduated from the golden 
opium of milky pens to
the heroin of black and blue
 
then met without resistance 
my spine of honey began to flow 
over a frailer frame where 
You and i romanced the curves of some
previously explored coast 
learning to keep lighthouses 
and the ecstasy of tea 
when the red sun goes down
‘til the poorly timed discovery of meter
in a mapmaker’s projections
 
erratic flickers before the fated dim 
 
again in the arms of a patio chair
again at the back of the good luck
and again edged against

the door and east of well
You know
and by then i thought i knew
better

by then i hoped
i was
 
brief collections of dust 
soaked and turned to pigment 
then descended on the page
where You and i
come together

and so we go
so we go