from Of Dark Love: XII

XII once again I look out your window and the world looks oddly different, maybe the fields have blossomed, or perhaps more stars have been born delirious waves caress my feet, something new, unknown, sunsets whisper in my ear as well, everywhere I find your odor, your shape you are among old-growth pines, in the fog along the coastal rocks, around the most somber of afternoons impossible to wipe away your job from my eyes, from my sad mouth— you are the universe made flesh