The Days Are Filled with You

The days are filled with you; the night, too.
ever-growing, my vines grow into you.
Taut against your blossoms, over your valleys,
I caress you like a fog, water against your leaves.
I am dancing in my blindness, caring not where I turn–
if I fall, I fall into you.

I am filled with your stories, your gestures,
the lilt of your voice, your trembling,
your garden riches. What a summer day would be
without a walk among your flowers?

I catch your breath from even this untold distance,
and roll it on my tongue; I see you dreaming
in an untold hour; the night is quiet and still,
so my heart may travel, winged, searching.
I find your sleeping face and it fills the midnight sky.
I fly into it and my feathers scatter into stars.

You are an alchemy.
Your skin is flecked with gold.
You are the words that flow out of me.
You are a great falls. You are the redwoods
that lap up the rain.

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