When Our New Love Began
Two hands above the sword horizon
the first pale stars
pin a robe of night
to the shoulders of the world,
and my heart,
that riderless horse,
roams the dunes of memory,
remembering the whispers
you wrote as secrets on my skin,
when our new love began.
Shadows flap their black wings
around the fire’s heat,
stirring sand flame-yellow
to the edges of my cloak,
and my love,
that rudderless boat,
sails the dunes of memory,
rising and falling in
the waves that were your laughter
when our new love began.
A lake of midnight fills the sky
so dark and deep
that its swollen tide
of darkness has drowned the world,
and my life,
that loveless ghost,
wanders the dunes of memory,
wishing that the wheel of stars
could turn and return to the day
when our new love began.