[Ad Infinitum]

[Ad Infinitum]

Drown by tangled sentiment
          like the urgency
            of a solitary tear 
that has opened 
in the chest--my heart trembles 
as I write these next lines.

For far too many minutes, 
I have not written in high regard 
or of the radiance in his soft, 
but steady gaze. 
                        Nor have I, 
spoken of the this blaze that shifts  
from this ache in my chest to 
these butterflies in my stomach. 

Seconds pass, 
and I have not imagined his warm 
words that thread my form in dusk. 
Nor have I thought of his hands, 
or the dulcet

            way his voice breaks 
     my silence. 
And if my body
becomes swift, may he spread the stem 
of his laughter softly against me, 
if anything, to still this beating
heart. 

And during theses final moments, 
I will kneel at his feet 
in veneration; 
          a sort of equilibrium 
between what
has faded with last year‘s memoirs, 
and what is starting to bloom 
even more so.

And I give to his heart, not my hand, 
but the impulse to open, 
    to exist in this new 
year,

       while I shift like wind and tide, 
seeking words of my own, but they do not 
arrive; he leaves me speechless in my own 
anatomy, 

lifting prayers to winter skies, placing
each one wholly, within the stars. 

It is much more than gratitude that I need 
to express--it is the certainty of forever.