My quiet in a valley of winter trees
White exposed by peels of time
Patient as an old branch in the dead of night

The moon sits sideways in a silent sky
I can’t imagine how quiet it is among the broken bark
How anxious or restless

Content in their stillness,
Our image carried deep in their middles
Clutching hope and perfect outlines

Two bodies come together
My heart’s anesthetist
And my forever regret

We throw branches; build it higher
And it all comes burning down
Our eyes sting but we can’t look away

Transfixed as our temple revels
I will live here behind my eyelids
I will swallow this smoke and smolder in its memory

And I will open my palm
To the cold, cold quiet
To the space I cannot reach