The lull of my breath
My sometimes staccato-cry
Devilish details

This…a rabbit hole,
a different dimension.
We…without an out.
Surprising, and how!
To adore the very storm
who will destroy you.
How you fought for me
Warrior, Peacemaker, You
With bloodied knuckles

Why you’re the poem,
and oh, how you’d believe it
if I kissed you right.
We have Saturdays
So although it’s not yet June
We have sweet, ripe time
The way that you Love
You look familiar to me
The Source of your Love
May it take all day
And all of this life ahead
I stay here for you
What if when I die
The mystery of your soul
Is unsolved by mine
And, how be it, still
You go South and I go North
O’er the span of time