iiiiiAlways water, lately, always your face
iiiiidrawn with the clarity of angels,

a bat wing gleaming under the bridge
unmasking a stomach

iiiiiasking for touch, if not quite lust.
iiiiiI have never known how to be

happy without a body
of water, without someone I love in wait

iiiiioutside the mouth of the cave,
iiiiithe thought of if it’s safe

if we too wish to step into the waves
of heaven. There is no question, here,

iiiiithere is no brittle earth waiting for fire
iiiiiin the kiln. There is only

might, there is only
unformed vessel,

iiiiithe strong hand that’s needed
iiiiito shape a curve so delicate

it looks like no one even tried,
like it was the most natural thing in the world.

 

 

CJ SCRUNTON