that dares
to stay.

a place where God hides gently
in the folds of my chest.
Morning returns with its old promise.
Night folds its silver wings.
And I—still listening—
softly ruminate on the reasons
I was made to see the divine
in every eye that lingers,
in every breath that survives the noise,
in every light

Your name was the warmest light
I carried.

Desire, once a tide I feared,
became a shoreline in me,
where two doves still rest
despite the world’s unraveling,
despite the chatter of distant fires
and the weight of hidden truths.

In the quiet, I remember:
every golden word you open
is a path inward

Safety of spying on my senile
Reason that lies and money
Marching in real soldiers
Upon jazz razor thin mines and silent whisper
Rome not eager to discover
Moth and solid rows of denatured
Rods of sad mindless reasons
To go frenetic stopping genes of old gate rooms roaming too

At least I meant well
It’s obvious at my age
I’m angry at myself
At everything I never gave
And everything I fantasized
A God would say to me
It’s proud war
And love to get men to lead
Me
At night I dream
Eagles are digging in my skin
And sinking this innocent joy
Of more than we enjoy

Reigned in the reels of saints
Going to march tombs left on
Red summer darkness
Reason to know many good deaths
Ease and strenuous chances
Taking mother of white Light
To God and raining it tenderly
On a gaze that white man may keep upon it and pray to.