She Folds

My own dear friend,
I wait here, smiling at
Your hair, as it blindfolds you
You’re strangled with joy
My words prance beneath feet,
I love you in this light.
Struck with roots of
Time and a bottle
Of wine had vanished last night,
Are you heavy with fear?
Let me birth the giant,
Let me take your hand,
Breathe deep and push
At your mind;
Anencephalic,
It tries to feed, but lacks the hands
And sight.
The burial is bittersweet,
You said a prayer once,
And I’m reminded of this.
But there you now stand
In my eye, watching
A cloud go by.
If it’s colder, I don’t mind,
I am the beholder.