Forget the words.
They’ll be rocks by morning.
The place
(the bed in this instance)
prefers the body
to the tongue.
Submerge yourself
in space and time
and tomorrow will welcome you
with dog-bark and foliage.
No lost ponies.
All trails sure underfoot.
The fire thawing the cold
or the cool turning back the heat.
Sediment
will look like crystal.
Tears, mere side-paths
on the way to knowing him.
