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Nights With You

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Allison Grayhurst

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Nights With You

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After all the marvel has flown

and the egg is minced inside

its nest, I feel you in my sleep

as a babe feels its mother’s breast,

or a tribe its evening song.

 

I feel my skin brushed with gravel,

feel doubt sealing me inside its zoo,

feel my hope sink like money into a reeling sea,

then you with your labyrinth of love,

discover new ways to restore me, to hold me

close to your taut belly and drown

my breathing on your flesh.

 

I cross through the cabin doors. I soar within

November skies. My secrets are no longer mine.

And morning finds me strong in my footsteps,

patient once more.

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Copyright © 1998 by Allison Grayhurst

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First published in “Chicago Record Magazine” March 2017

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http://magazine-record.blogspot.ca/2017/03/possessive-this-vice-i-keep-is-like.html

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