An epic, if You believe in time.

An epic, if You believe in time.

mikl paul

 

and rendering.

    what the clouds came here for

  you to say.      and

 

mouth to rib, reciting scripture

 

and

 

tongue to tongue,      complimenting

   the mystery of          only sounds

 tell me       with           only sounds

   what is becoming more      clear

the softer we shut each others   eyes.

     tell me what it is to be growing older

while.

 

and  what  we  are     of     as

   the sheet   twists around my neck

as though    only the heart

              deserves a halo.

 

they have yet to erase    the

    heavens transcribing   the lines

across their palms.

 

telling    futures    spilling     over

the     filling    betweens of them

   what  is  mine 

            what  is  yours

what is     created

                    in our glossy midsts.

   I want to know the way

                    she says,

I want to remind   myself

         of   myself    and if I lose

you   in a stranger or a sought out

   violence  I will forget

 

the conclusion of our waking

 

the staggering of our joining.

 

as we mimic    what we have just

     discovered    into the night,

   far beyond all hope of retreat ,

into the other,    from each other,

    toward ourselves.

 

is this the expected lateness of our

  dreaming?    the right hand cleansing

   the left and so worn in the tending?

   halt the descent    with a single   pure

and     reinvent    and   redefine     purpose

    or let     the newness   speak

             with the voice of elders    and

teach     all infant love       

      the holy       the fit      the joy

  of home redeeming.