For Louise Glück
I love you
And love your voice
Despite never feeling the liquid of it
Pour from your throat
On my own aging wine skin
The whispers you most likely shared
With a love nearby
Who did, or perhaps did not
Hear what was within the whispers:
Fountains streams pools lakes rivers
Seas of wonder loneliness despair triumph
Joy all wrapped up in some splendor
Some unbearable subtlety
That lasts as long as silence in worry
Leaving the listener, the one
Brave and cautious enough to lean in
The shy drunkard, thirsty
For what leaves them thirsty
Thirsty flowers, thirsty choking
Flowers not fit for too much sunshine
Thirsty flowers, some of them
With brambles and thorns unforgiving.
I should have said I adore you
Even having not known one true solid drop of you
For this.
Love the Dust 