The Wall of Dew
The Wall of Dew
I wall the silence into my bones like a church made of wax
and your girl's body stays beyond the walls
a ship of moonlight left on a shore of guilt
and you cross the fields white with dew like an apparition
with the lightning-struck secret in your hair like kindled crystal
The ripe apple in the orchard catches fire in lightning like a bell
the snow of your mouth blooms in a single rare instant
and the butterflies of the dream go out like bones of glass
in their place the white emptiness breathes like paper
and night carries its moon-wine beneath its lashes
Through the meadows it is moon and it is evening and time runs backward
like a river of mercury searching behind itself for its source
and the evening tastes of burnt bread and of dew
the moon's reasons slip away like fish from a silver net
and I am left with my hands full of a sweet darkness
The apple of repentance has fallen into the nameless earth
and the seeded grass keeps its place like a host of angels
cold dew gently roughens the silence of a strange sin
the fields bend like wings of ice
and I count in my palms the seeds of a parched sky
The snow of your mouth blooms like a star in water
and my wonder pours out like honey from a bell
what use is the dream anymore in this desolation of petals
only the moon washes its wounds in the glass spring
and my silence tries you on like a cloak of dew
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