reverie, reverie

at night
the slipping up on wet staircases,
the moss green and wet and tapping on the window -
they benevolently hold to the ground,

the trees, black skeletons that sway against the ash sky...
city lights below, a carpet of diamonds
inverting heaven;
and we eat, and feel peace,
and hold hands as the heater clicks on.

the pleasant is good
yet
i tap at his head,
i quietly observe the flesh before me,
and marvel
at its likeness
and its distance
all together at once.

i am in no hurry.
i wait, waiting for my trembling tongue
to catch up -
to capture the heave of heart
to savour the path
to wait until i can emerge - out of this dim cave, where i keep myself with care

and the dark falls,
and fall we into bed,
and in the dark hearts race with the answers our mouths are too slow to speak