Come Closer

come closer love upon the legs of time        
cast out the stagnant evening on the clay            
the silverfish of stars are set to climb          
and lavenders have licked away the day          
Melville found his mother in the sea          
and is not every ocean heaven’s land?          
Bronte knew in blindness that we see          
ourselves inside until we understand          
those  fickle tricks in atmospheres on earth          
the dupe in prism’s color played by light          
the transitory nature of an oath          
or ribs of truth around a waist of lies          
and under love and kindness, what sleeps there?          
The heart of every creature that we fear