Winesong

my body has been thickening itself
as a root against famine
neatly watered and split into compartments
this, thorax, here, abdomen.

all night I have been watching a spider
trace gently from wall to wall a thread.
I have been dusting.

Sweetness, I am no longer able
to take your hand and reassure you,
this wine is drowning my guts, this song
stuck in my head, I am rutted and unfortunate
as a tune whistled duskwards in some
lonesome field of wheat.

My love

Laying alone and thinking of
the lightness of you, goodly
rich weight in my arms.

The sweetness of you.
Salt on your skin, sugar-tongued,
my feast, my flighted bird, my love,

my lady love, my dear, my love,
my doe, sweetest, darling,
a menagarie and more, a voice,
a pair of arms holding me tight.

The goodly rich earth of you
to grow me, to ground me, to feed me.
That I might be a leaf to fall into you,
enrich you, make you more.
I want to see you shine.

To give and love, in this new year,
in this new light.