My Love: XI: Water On Stone

my love,

the breezes of your eyes captures and dispels the desolate wilderness that has grown into my chest, and the air of your tenderest gesture spills warmth from the edges of your touch into the sap of roots

i am  floundering in the wasteland that is my body, and the winds that are your touch  pulls the gasp of my heart from the dark of the woods, as the autumn leaves bat there eyes in the sharp scrape of the sun,

the memory of the tread of your passing delivers puffing clouds of chocking dust from the desert of my mouth and in the ripeness of your hands i walk the earthly corridor between sky and stone
and the sound of the horseshoe falls is a forlorn whisper of water on stone, and in the swaddling breeze your moist scent of first spring captures and imprisons the lost sound of your steps in the forest.

then evening drifts up from deep roads as shimmering tendrils of shadows  bind air and hearts, the darkness smothers the frail beating and spills over the curve of desire, and in the clasping dark i heave a breath snapping the thin silver threads of longing that has bound me to you
i travel the vast tundra and i know that you are the lost promised land uncharted unexplored and i am wayward, and the wine of my feet will travel every pebble strewn forest path through flicking gold and puffs of dust till the end of days.

my love, in the unfolding desolation i will listen to the tender rub of unfurled leaves in a thick fresh breeze clean with rain and spiced by sea. and your desert and plains will swaddle me  and hold me in  the rhythm of light  and dark  of winter and promised spring  and the unfurling of your swift white rivers will carry me to the crest of your tenderness

and the dark nights of your arms will embrace me and carry me from sun to star strewn sky and i will  drink the star light  and devour the alien sky till i have found the center of you to embrace and cup in my palms.