half
wakeful dark
I
feel you again my loose arm circling your back narrows
letting
my hand explore the necessary shapes of mortality
drift
back to dreams of wounded chaos tumbling tumbling
as
if I could hold you against the weakness against the winter sun
that
blinks briefly at my window as it rises over roof tops and slots back
into
grey cloud as if this were its allotted place
as
if you never were Magdalena
no
purchase
no
fulcrum
to
lever you back
we
were one once
I
am lost
freed
to roam
over
white lands of turmoil
pinning
my failing red eyes
searching
for imaginings to
stumble
out my days
your
bath sheet readied
against
my breast
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