Roman Glass

We stumbled in a sand blown silver field
On iridescent pools of ancient glass
On earth where none but us were meant to pass
Your thumb upon my breast, a sacred shield,
Still, still, upon your voice and hand I reeled
And, ever falling, pulled you to the grass
Tongue by melting lip we burnt a bright morass
From this skin and heart my soul you peeled
From molten rock and bitter bubbling grist
That Roman glass was long ago a pool
Blown by that slave into a dripping spire
This a pearl-pale wine shard in my fist
Beneath your kiss with joy I am the fool

Glass to solid ash when you leave my pyre

Now, you call me from work, or store or street
Passing the beans and napkins as you walk
I hunger for your rye-sweet voice, your talk
The briefest love word, voiced smile, heartbeat
Even mirrors melt with time, time, and heat
But slow , too slow for human eye to mock
I wait, I tie my senses down, and rock
My faith to sleep upon a dim repeat
Of words you said a year ago and more
On tides that you both wrought and put to sleep
Your guilt and waste and dread, my breaking joy
I know, believe now, and see even sore
Partings bring a passing grace, my own to keep
Mercy now, come love, let our fingers meet

I know you know the art of glass making
For you took ash and sand from my zero heart
My virgin fate, inferno nights apart,
Burnt them color bright, your white heat slaking
Mine, your hunter’s soul so sure in taking,
Knowing just where you end and how I start
Your breath in mine defied all chemists’ art
Such miracles do not end in leave taking,
Dust, memory, and going on without.
Creation is our process, from fire we grow
A day, pass on to all we touch this spark
Of light we make together, can you doubt?
Take this blue broken shard, by which we know
Glass lasts forever, so come and light the dark.

 

To the Legal Limits May 2008

The Heart of The Monster