The End of Love is an Extreme Comfort

Wilt thou have me fasten into speech

The finding of joys whose sum

Is always somehow beyond my reach?

 

The light to my spine is my

Spirit’s last belief, a woman’s

Love brings me a strange self-belief

 

Dauntless, voiceless, to convey the grief

Of what a touch does for the body’s clasp

Wilt thou have me boast of sweetness

 

The apex of what we once knew as love

Not so particular but a drop of the universal

The sunset in my throat that catches there

 

Laughter from thine earnest eyes

That brings me meaning, wholeness, completion

Lips to stain my life with the same sunlight

Honeyed face, brow and hair.