Like Trees

Oh, ancient eyes -
unsettle me,
still;
and give me my
centuries of height.
I want you
as
the dust amid my
brow;
I want you
as the dust of
my parting lip.
Oh, ancient ear -
hear my mourning
moan as you
unfold
our light;
hear the religious
sighs you
induce.
And -
oh.
I do see
your timeless hand;
awake across
the planes of my
skin, and
searching my
dishonest render.
Still -
your immortal
taste;
that mouth like
the Fountain:
Deliver me from
Time? and
those lips!
I wish to kiss,
and endure my
eyes, as you.
Because ancient
eyes insist:
with a righteous
wisdom like
forever
I could see,
still,
your unending
Night.
Because -
because I do want
to be that dust which
bows to you;
I want to sate
your ageless
cantor -
like lust were that
trinket rarely
touched
and love were
rarer,
still.
Because -
because
ancient eyes
do not forget.
I do think I want
to be awoken.