Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Holy Orders

Your kindness poured out
is fragrant, is brilliant
it stings my sense of where you are
and you at a window becomes
an unreal thing
the night backing you solidly
the light pushing your silhouette
forcefully on my iris, my eye

until you're not a cutout
but a relief
raised on my mind like the
awareness of a skipped period,
patently there, crushingly full
and huge and unswerving.

Your hands frame my head
like a baptism
and your kisses
make the sign of the cross.

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