Eros

Sky sleeps her wounded needs
tongue replays the taste of you ,
love , like spring rain falters
on the threshold of becoming

constant voices hem me in
cacophony of centuries when
rape and plunder ruled this land ,

your hand so perfect in my own
tied time we share when I hardly dare
to breathe: as moment passes into dust ;
when nothing is as gentle as your touch .

Spring rain ,
alone pillaging these narrow lanes
entombed with needing children ;

love wounds all it touches
scars the frightened animal trapped within .

Sky serenades these frozen feelings
rich veiled from years of darkness
hot wax awakes your beauty
your perfect hand in mine ,

I, an awkward fledging forced to fly
construct this unknown map I hold inside,
redeem blood faults of women’s faded yearnings

turn to greet God’s omnipresent eye

& vanish .

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