White Flowers
i
How can one capture the breath
of a night drenched in white flowers
and the talk of a thousand steps
that led to your doorway
– moments of sorrow and joy –
my hands moulding your skin like clay
your taste sticking to my tongue like toffee
in my mind's eye, a kiss lingers
a moment of rapture
caught between the sheets like
two doves thrashing against the sky
in the folds of my skin that night has left its mark
drenched
in soft kisses
and the whispers
of a thousand suns
caught
in a single breath of sorrow and joy.
ii
Time flows like a river
beneath these perfect thoughts–
they rock and ebb like a boat adrift
and try as I might I cannot reel them in
they linger on the water –
like a kiss, on a quiet afternoon.
iii
Out of beauty and sorrow
the darkness fashioned me a lover
a man of flesh and bone and heart – so fine
and it made me weep hard
for everything that I had left behind
and everything which may not lie ahead.
iv
For, like the morning bird
who has all but forgotten – how to fly and sing –
thrashing about in the darkest corners of a new day
I have nothing left to guide me
but the light of fading stars.