How the light loves you, bathing in the richness of your bare skin, dancing towards the sky. How the day clings to you, the last to leave you to the swaddling shadow and the shuffling dust. Cloistered in blood and ritual you cast your steady spells. Burning just bright enough to catch the honest eye. Burning so deep creation wanders in your wake.
I long to kiss you, meat and bone. That feast of endurance, that famine that no gluttony can sate. You draw down these entanglements like rain from the sky. You wear the wants of others like slight stirrings in the weather. I long to dwell in the moment that you manifest, long to change everything by the sheer intent to remain. We climb, we crawl, we dwindle, we fade. This enchantment claims every morsel left.
It is a fiction, this obsession. It is a trick of emphasis, an adjustment of vision to the limitations of light. Proof always insists on exceeding the limits of the system. I watch the sky stretch into starlight. I watch the last wings of the day fold and scatter. You wander outside my limits, traveling past your bounds as you ripple through this breathless hungry world. I would gather you up, all ash and gravel. Despite your shine I would keep you close. Huddled in my limits, loved like a stone dragged mercilessly to the bottom of the sea.
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