On Hope

familiar nightmare
disguised as another chance at
suddenly the sweetness of your tongue
gradual, thickening kiss
that tastes like joy

new door opening
yes I will finally be
yes I won’t finally be

my ache to describe you to them
have them understand
your lips sweet as cinnamon
to feel like a newborn babe
wrapped in swaddling
white tabula rasa open to the world

i worship you like a god
your name even on my cell phone
your name now an extension of me
i’m your giddy epigone
singing your praises
on my parched tongue throughout the night

while you caress the dreams of spring out of me
and make me sing
yes it will finally be like
yes it won’t finally be like

and then sweet love
you begin to crumble
as if the world i knew were only a room
walls collapsing
the chipping-through of truth
no it will never be
no it cannot possibly be

ash-grey ache of a lovesick morning

the irrevocable retraction
that emptiness between my ears
my chest cavity
my thighs

spiders’ webs dripping from the corners
the dank and the dark
utter door-less-ness now

but all the while knowing you will come again
familiar lover
eternal lover
and i will be as powerless to resist you then
as i am powerless to grieve your absence now