When you are awake
sometimes I’m frightened.
Your glowing countenance
feeds me
pearls trapped in your shell,
opening what is dormant in me
and searching for you,
alone.
Our hands stir,
align contours,
touch
balance skin’s feather-tips,
find the calm cheek of silk
in each other’s scars.
Maps of calloused lifelines register,
charging new inner terrain,
the darkness in each
finding its way
to one spiritual center.
This road is embedded
with a new species of history
that can grow blood-red fruit
as we brush our conjoined landscape,
hidden from others,
adorned
with shared intuition,
summoning
a bespoke language.
The fabric of old words forgone,
enlivened by the charge
that clutches
your shadow
as it infiltrates
the soft, anxious confines of my soul.