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Domestic Silence

We could tangle together all night,

And listen to the wind as it romps and plays,

Knowing that our limbs are just as delicate

As the naked limbs of a tree, frail and frayed ;

delicate as the wisps of our smoke

and their sinuous dance by the shaded light.

And darling, your snores are welcome tonight;

Better than the nagging silence and my pleading tosses

And turns. This cloak of darkness smothers me,

but at least my dreams can land on quilts.

And Morning will come to shove her way through,

leaving spatters of light across our bed;

Dissolving the night and freeing my mind of the evening news.

And the twilight of dawn emerges like a bruise

Over scabbing ground,

That taped up place where her body was found;

Searching for a soul,

Delicate as the mist that rises from the ground,

Yet heaven bound,

Or Resting comfortably in the depths of 4 billion

Years

Of daydreams and tears;

Mine slips the sill and joins the quiet quests.

And I hold this ring close to my chest,

Like the talismans I used to keep.

They gave me comfort when I had no God

And troubles steeped and ran too deep.

Now I hope against hope that a heaven exists,

So I may one day sleep;

Rid myself of this need to weep,

And allow a prayer to carry me through.

And my thoughts then turn to you, my love,

With a half hearted smile, as I gather our mugs.

I think of our future, delicate

as the milk that that swirls in our tea,

And the distance it鈥檚 made between you and me.

Each day, the same routine in this comfortable place we鈥榲e settled.

I mend our wounds, put out fires, and redirect the paths of bullets,

Against the desperate whistles of a kettle.

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