Dejected

How many hours, lost, in confusion. 
To return, shadow, of an image, 
Of the moon. 

Wading through, your heart, 
that lonely ocean, 
Of the dark. 

To bend, in tune, with: 
Loss and Wound, 
To hold-in light, and 
Never Bloom. 

— — 

I love your back! 
And your sweet head...
Resting on your shoulder,
my hand, in stead: 

“Brother, Sister” 

And you are loved, and I do love.
So may I give you this, 
my sweetest kiss
And you become the dove.

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