no, the hot light of day
obscures, exhausts, and
makes a liar out of me.
it’s the damp cover of
the cave—settling
the earth, the nerves—
that reveals
the trickle of the heart
and these threadbare chords
with which i am bound
and reconciled.
run your palms along
the ridged walls and curl
your fingers through the moss.
i am called to know this
and to feel this all, intimately.
yes, the sun gone down,
the stone cool against my naked back,
i want you to hear what i hear.
curl your fingers through my hair
and run your soles along the bed of the pool.
we could live here forever, and
i’ll see you in the morning.