gods face my face

-

soft time cheeks
breathe
in and out
tongue-talk I want to hide
inside your mouth

blue curve yielding
better phrases, you were frail
you were serious and aflame

and I have saught
the trembling of your
swollen heart
to press against me in the dark

tiptoe trip to pretty things
the flutter of my lover's wings
night skies like his
featherflesh,
reliance wilting on the shelf
but two by two
with freckle pins
I fasten you
to myself.

-