You say you will come
Again; this time I will wait through

The extra burning, the vicinity of your
Tongue making a slow way toward beginning and this

Then becomes the argument, the only one
In the collar of moonlight as finally I cause you

To answer your several names. It is all
About return, enough faith to live

On whatever remains. While your hand looks
For the broken glass of what has not

Happened yet, it breaks everything
Along the way. The old vines tighten

Around the untended kingdom while some still sleep
And the long approach

Of no footfall becomes the road I hurry home on
To a place where I learned to leave the body

Not so much in safety but with the best intentions,
And into the smallest space I crawl, a taste of mud,

An edge of light into the room so each morning the world
Can solve itself against our abandoned stones.