from the ocean core
in a seacave I found
the pearl of longing.
Smashing it inside
its dust shaped my heart
into your beating face.
In my calm inside you glow, the moon in the lake of dawn.
I live as I write for her whose lifethread and mine were ever weaved as one.
On the altar of his silence
she broke like a wave,
the fumes of poetry,
the blood cries of the moon.
A treasure, each shared moment; a world evoked in each breath, each simple touch.
Seascape poem in her eyes, a painting beholding the endless sky.
Her perfume is the silence that fills my heart with God.
In the shadow of your kiss
My heart blossomed lush and green,
Steeped in the flow of this bliss
Dawn from your face spilled serene.
Her dark hair smelled of the incense of the stars.
Poets are posthumous flowers hanging from the branches of trees growing in the sky.
rake my silence
into a poem
weaved of ache