dim the shadow
in the back of the day
with the tasks that humor instructs,
tie your doubts to mine
leave my crumbs next to your bread and shout no
the line where the air has
taste of fever and the mouth separates the fire
from the ash,
is it a bird or is it the breeze that hits
cheek and tie
here
at my rib the dog love that never
we knew how to tame
the hunched love that treads
clumsily the inexperience where I bite
the purple mistletoe
joy, overflow your shadow,
greedily love this moment of light
while your cross fills my blood
of gray boats that invent
my hands your ports
the dog love that never
we never tame.