Cabin

You
have marble eyes that glaze,
I glazed mine too,
last Sunday,
and the time before that  
when I was at war with myself.
You extend them,  
lick
around my outside until I am bound
to that necessity,
the absolute orchestral insistence in your face.
I'd lay every time,
arch the spine,
lift
until ribcage is an instrument to play
until
the sky forgets
there was ever sunlight,
until I am surrounded by pine and woodsmoke,
axe outside,
body unwinding
until we awake,
wrapped in each other,
hiding from the rain outside.