memory of me

of pages
I can’t keep apart
for too long
at a time
when thought of moments
talking to the night
familiar as these counted sheets
mountain breeze
between them
ran my hands along
a forgotten
stretch of life

- and married there
a scribe
before the veil had come
couldn’t know of this
the story we would write

flesh to burn
and I don’t know your name

familiar taste
of sunlight spilling
lazy through the clouds
as you were there
and I as truth began

a reader wants
a poet loves
though I be less
than either
changed into a promise
none could speak

tho sweated to a page
(for tracing)
words to resurrect
each far away
is haunted
by your touch

as stillness sits
beside my bed
reading me a story
e’er I would choose
some different
yet to be
or beg to breath this moment
moonlight falls anew
softer now
the memory
of me