is how I receive your warmth: in silence, in reverie;
these are worlds within words of an empty youth
burned into one's skin.
How to touch another in freefall fantasy?
I tell you this: of light and a circling compassion
found in meadows, the sky, the rain on a winter's night
filling the bones with aching enemies.
I tell you this: that forever is irrational and never infinite
when humans press claims and promises of dust
and shadows, in the arcing collapse of buildings
meant to stand for centuries on their own,
inscribed with the sweat and blood of ritual
and tragedy, circling and watching,
circling and watching