A love out there

There’s a love out there beyond imaginings

—a love that might be madness.

 

It’s in how her sleeves stop to reveal her skin,

how her texts are wild birds

landing

in your hand.

It’s the tender way in which

she holds a piece of fruit,

in how she’s sort of clumsy,

and how that makes you hot.

It’s in how your lust is mixed

with worship.

It’s the face she prepares at dawn

with her magic little tools.

It’s in how the line she draws for others

is the line you’re asked to cross.

 

It’s in how the blueprint

burns away.

 

It’s in how

—mind with mind, or loin with loin—

you can’t get deep enough,

in how you’d cut each other’s wrists

to merge them at the wounds

to feel it all completely.

 

It’s in how the wicked little secret

is shared with her.

 

There’s a love out there beyond imaginings,

that’s rebirth, rare and one

I’ll die alone for

if that’s how long it takes.

There’s a love out there,

a howl that calls the dawn,

a resonance,

an invitation

somewhere in the wilderness.