that when caressed in receptive hands soothes the blood of it's divine chaos

~ my open body, amongst other things, a graveyard for phantoms and fossils.
~ i hold between my finger and thumb the clouds that trap your thoughts.
~ i pledge allegiance to the day and night and the love in between;
~ worship the saints (mine, not His) that line the windowsill and romance my animal heart.
~ i receive letters typed in cryllic script and remember the day the river burst it's banks.
~ i (lose and then) find myself threading a rosary; memories set in amber.
~ possessed by a wild curiosity about the intricacies of the hearts of strangers,
~ i listen to you speak of the movement of wings - butterflies in your stomach.

to go too far

our lives a pilgrimage
composed of cyclical journeys.

i have travelled around the sun
on more than thirty occasssions.
the last two of which with you.

our faces shining amongst stars
hanging in the cavernous sky.
discovering the joys
and limitations of the body.

and as though i haven't already,
i want to go too far.