In Fingers' Grasp

(a quatern)
In fingers’ grasp, I feel your need,
In shudders of slow broken breaths,
In knots of roots that tangle there,
That hold the damp of night cloud's touch.

The hard that bears the soft away
In fingers’ grasp, I feel your need
To give the past its hungry kiss,
To sing in throaty gasps, your hymn.

In wind and slip, the tendrils smile,
That catches light like heaven’s gate
In fingers’ grasp, I feel your need
To drink the draft of morning’s come.

In bare concealed delight, your mouth,
A rise of gales on waken's edge,
A laughter’s song that hangs out love
In finger’s grasp, I feel your need.