Send It Up

His love comes at me
like a sucker punch.
Betrayed by body
or eyes —
no matter what
I expose or offer —
it can never be right.
He strives against
my holy rage
and it lifts
on wings of unthinking —
(concealing arms and mouth) —
and again transforms
to abiding sorrow —
this weightless thermal rising,
winding up and whispering
the northward passage.

Vibrate the fusion,
and even the sun
cannot stop us now —
it reaches honey hands
to urge us onward —
Up! Up!
it shouts.
Let go
the weight of winter, love.
Let go
the tedium of time’s passing.
Let it loop and dive
across the water
with the swallows.
Send it up into
the shifting spark of a shadow spring.

Reach past all darkness
to burn it away,
and burn it away —
the flesh and the salt,
the sweet and the studied
of forgotten life.
Send it up
like a letter to regret.
Raise your eyes again,
and raise your self again, love.
Send it up into the light.


About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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