Be with me,
My prison-guard, whose smile the only light
In this oubliette of mine; no darkness,
Only a forgetting of what is bright,
A rich smear, a Monet in my mind’s eye,
Of you, only you.
And at last,
With your glittering soul I shall hold still,
With hands on hips and sweet Athena’s eye,
Your beauty tumbles the sky until
The end days have flickered out, unremarked,
Unbound by these spells.
So touch me,
With that quivering, that flinch, holding fast,
Sharp intake of breath and melt into memory,
The memory of embraces long past,
And the flight of love and timeless things like
Raindrops on a bridge.