our connection is soundless
a silent sprout
an eventual tree that no one hears
decades before the fall

we are quiet transformation
light makes a claim
in the tangled dark of shuttered memories
buried roots and hard clay

our eyes catch the light of rust
a patina web
an inevitable pulse set to stop
this heartthrob in my throat

we talk with our limbs
gestures form pockets
to hold the way we feel
while the dirt absorbs decay

if i don't sleep
because the night
away from daydreams
is too long a goodbye,
then the future,
my future,
will never gather
enough strength
to be formidable
in the light.

so sleep, love.
sleep.
let your mind play angle
sand build bridges.
let it rest.
only from there does it fly,
up up and away.

in the direction of theta,
infected with real and true
that i could never ever
have caught from you.

you
and your low-hung head
flung my orbit whack
with your weigh in
like so. much. heavy rain,
soggy and unsettled
on your fragile hulking shoulders.

that can’t be
good for me.
i know it wasn’t
good for me. 
the future undreamt,
smothered by thick hands
of every shadowed mask
you wore,
now held up to the light
of an incandescent.