What binds us,

is not


blood & bone & tears


it’s not, a golden ring

or common history


it isn’t pitter pat

of children’s feet:


what binds us is

stardust lost between


the mystery of sleep

the bright awakening.


A hand upon a cheek


a whispered prayer

your ankle touching me.


It can’t be stored

for future gain


or dusted down

& packed away.


What binds us is this



lost between


the echo of the owl

night rain on shutters


a drowsy glance

your face in sleep:


& lest I settle for another,

a love less deep


what binds us here

as lovers


we cannot grasp

& keep


it is settled in the

chambers of my heart


it beats its own

sweet beat


that Universe






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