night sonnet
The night shifts restless on my skin. I thought
I saw your face inside a dream. The cards
won’t say—the moon is new and you, you found
me out inside my head. The clouds hang hot
against the sky, black as all the things
you never said, the darkness hidden sweet
beneath your tongue: the love you love to steal,
my love—it lifts and drags like broken wings
or whirlwind: imprecise. O love, I dream of light,
of mirrors and your eyes—the world burns to ash
and you, you are the end, my love, of innocence
and art. I swear I’d give the moon—the night—
every priceless thing I’ll never own—
to taste the fury of your heart, the ardor of your bone.