Despair Brunt

light casts
working trim line fair
I catch the sweat that falls
from your fingers
timid like hot rains
in fire skies

the ashes swiftly turning
grey on our arms
bathing like salt lick
erosion

the heat turning clay to dust
and surmising the sun
in chalk dust love

tips to teach
like breaking oysters
with the knife

sucking sweet juice
and licking tender chill
flesh

fresh packed in ice
and flown in

and the hungry sky fills
our need like water
and bread
and this spring
keeps trickling
cold life

and the suns blade
is cutting the song
of the ciccada

carving emotion
waving in the breeze
thick and black like
blood on the stone

and the waves carry
your footprints to the
bottom
like my love
that sinks
with the moon

and the ferry caught
stars twist from the
stern
speaking illusion
in their midst

they speak your name
to my listening lips

fret not my love
let freedom be