you read to me Neruda at 2:00 a.m. a deepening blue

1.

My notepad is untitled.
No words come to fill in these blanks,
no writes of passage,
no shades of an almighty pen,

I reach for You
on the other side
no one is there
but a thousand different cries
that lay waste to days like heavy fog

I take refuge in echoes,
sounds of serendipity

walk the surface of stones and skies
beyond--
unknown, unbound

dreams I have dreamed in illusions
of a reluctant poetry that smells
of fresh bread baking,
a hunger yet to be written


2.

you read to me Neruda at 2:00 a.m.

You coughed and sipped
a little water, I wanted to
be that water,
to be swallowed,
whole

I wanted to hear that sound,
gurgling into your river of being
me, trembling like a flower
against a harsh wind

I wanted to break through time and
space, punch the walls of a flimsy
separation
I wanted to place my palms on
your chest, my fingers scented
with lemon slices from a summer
we
have yet to live

lay my head
against your heart,

I wanted to be carried
away on a boat we must craft from the shoals
we
leave behind

I wanted to feel you rising against
my need, I wanted to ride you into
oblivion

I wanted stars, I wanted seas,
I wanted the light of ecstasy, I wanted
to fall into your breath

you read to me Neruda at 2:00 a.m.
and the sun rose early today
delirious fresh bread