Threshold

A simple word,

A fevered soul

Come upon the threshold that holds you so.

So deep the vacancy of your arms.

 

You pull and push your way, through mists and webs

We hold each other with ghost hands

We hear the cannons fire and see all that burns

We return to the ash that bore us doomed

 

I wait for your breath upon my skin

You dress the canyons and fields with gentleness

You remain hidden in lace and churn the water into an ocean.

We taste the earth and return unbroken

Seeking our way home.

 

 

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