And what we
choose to close
to the night, to
the eyes
in the
grass across from us
is that wordless
notion of
my hand in space
waiting empty
and yours
pulling apart the
universe,
stone by stone, shoulders
still
does it
bother you, this breathing
because I will hold it
What
lightning comes
and paints cracks against our
sagging
fence and no one
crawls into the cold
space
between our arms
the sheets are lost in the clap
one, two, of
thunder
who is
pounding we say
but it is a bird that begins
below my ribs, touching
spark to
flame, burning
down the very
stars.