for centuries we have slept in strange beds.
gone digging for the stars in empty pockets
while unseen overhead they came on like porchlights.
we have heard that voice from beyond the throat

like a cello at the frequency of cracking icebergs
shuddering for a response.

we have felt the edge of winter like a blade,
held our bodies to the lions,
and through the darkness
that leaks from beneath the bones
to build the risen towers of our least credible dreams
we have rampaged.
and stalked shivering back,
with shells in our hair,
sea-swallowed and hungry.
blistered and broken,
unceasing and unrelenting,
toward the only thing that mattered.

where your skin first touched mine, fire was born.
the city where we met still burns.
look to the smoke and see.
for we are consumed with the flames
as in a lover's eyes.
and look you all the buildings do burn.
this is the blossoming of it all.
we are but fingers and palms
grasping for each other in the dark.

all the past has been just prologue to this:

the night of the day i first kissed you
i wore my lips like a pearl handled pistol,
walked with mercutio's swagger,
held my head as though it were the sky itself,
and proclaimed thus to the pigeons:

'buckle my knees and spin the world.
give me the breath, the words, a thought.
give me a mountain, a flame, a kiss.
a moment or eternity.
turn the sky black in midafternoon.
empty out my heart like an old purse
so i may fill it with you.
for i will know no more days like this one.'

One day our bodies will lie dead beneath this ground,
But dear heart, hear me,
As the redness drips every second closer to black with the deep pounding
discovering you in the chaos, like a blaze in a blizzard, warms me.
When my eyes lose the power to see
I will be glad they had the chance to fall into yours,
And should I grow lost, I will discover the way
Through the kisses like light that you toss
for me to catch as a hopeful bride does flowers.

We are made from pieces of all things.
and one day our parts, as scattered dust,
will meet above some far ocean.
and on that day, though we no longer have lips,
you will,
once again,
know my kiss.