i say, with my mouth all soft and silent fervor, 

you are my heat. 

you are the morning sun that illuminates dust

through the window, the softness. 

the gentle wake. 

my heart’s howling unrest, like absolutely 

nothing

else. do you mean it, really? some things are so pure,

i can’t help thinking they’re unreal,

a distant oasis constructed by my wandering mind

to keep me walking. 

you are the strength in the veins that heal, 

time and time again.

like the fire, the gentle soaring fingers of the flames

lapping at your heart, as though

you cannot feel it, as though in a dream.

loveless, heartless, devoid of all, i, in my worst nightmare,

trudged through the swamp, the mud. 

and in my own light, the swan, the glow of the moon. 

what is this silence? what does it mean? 

whose children are these, so swollen with emptiness

you are my heat, i say. louder this time. 

the burning match in the snowy forest, 

the stirring, the sun. 

i say, i am a child of the night, the guise of the darkness

as home. but you tug at the corners of the sheets

of the black, pull the night sky

down. i’ve never been touched so purely. 

i feel like we create universes.

i need to know that you feel it too, 

that you remember how our souls touched, 

that you understand the tenderness 

of my thoughts of you. you are my warmth, 

in a dream i saw you descend from heaven

shrouded in the softest yellow light

and we all wept. thank god we’re mortal.

someday we will go home. 

4/13/2016