By M. Madison
Date: 16 May 1998

Your Words

your words seep through the mortared stone

no threaded fibers to fold or confess
laid opened to witness
but words
gently clothing my eyes

submerged in silent abandon 

words drenched skimming cables
as they siphon as they pour 
rosewater fragments
habit of soul 

spent and redeemed with an ivory comb

on fire i dive into your cove across
the air and stars and pictures 
painted on the ground
a black night-heron nods 

the windless sky responds 

i know your kiss i've felt it press
my nape you traced its vacantness
i know the content of the shell it waits in words
for glances of a touch a soul's caress

and washes clean the marrow of my emptiness



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m. madison
23 mar 1998
copyright 1998