i have not sodden my body with you
you have not earned that destruction
the taste of your sundering
long ago shaped in the back of my throat
it is only our bodies that long to exist
what we have been does not need to endure
take this day for instance
how the sun has been given back
to the wool of grey sky
that circle of wind that plumments a bough
your arms are also limbs
if i can’t gather them unto myself
(i have not claimed them)
whose are they
what we lay claim to destroys us
the day is at its end
that gatherer of light
the moon
is already dragging our shadows
across a field
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