i have come
to this silence
where nothing exists
no need for name
the squander
of verse
i have come
without tears
or passion renewed
a vow
without lines
to rehearse
i have come
on my knees –
broken and bare
averting my gaze
from the flame of your eyes
arms wrapped around
hold me in place
as tempted am I
for a moment
to fly
agate and rust
canyons of clay –
echoes writ
to rivers of stone
as memory
rains from the sky

. . .