I bled the weight, dripping down the doorway of your hall
letters so red on paper, written.
tides of the past, pushing their time on me
air against windows, breathing glass, disconcerting.
and the truth became me,
water of the real,
blindly articulating the canyons of clouds you sit in.
yesterday i fell so distant, from heights forthright becoming. the ground-est of grounds to plights unshaken.
and i sat in the shadows of your seat, your fragile face, turning and hearing.
then i picked myself up and continued the flesh,
seeing the us of today, a living space. universal sight, weeping.
rain-forests of spring. collections untold,
burning into stories of love.
and you kissed my cheek while a train passed in the distance, blaring.