I hear your whispers
the way deaf hear songs,
An electric tingle of delight
on the edge of my fingertips.
Drumbeats of your name
against the skin of my beating heart.
The valley of memory sings again
your name, your name.
I wear the river in dancing folds
of fluid light.
Rock bosom heaves.
We have broken so many times,
to sing clay songs in forbidden tongues.
I gather the marigolds of smiles
before they reach your lips.
Dreams appear and disappear, like meteors.
I gaze, lying on the rocky earth,
crumbling quietly.
There are no complete stories…
A comet sigh,
music without words,
the faith of grass,
love’s fleeting half-touch.
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