Breaching The Distance
(for dhs)

The furnace bangs out a requiem mass
but these icy fingers tucked between thighs-
the last gracious repository, aren't wed
to the caprices of the metal hearth. While
breast knee and calf still serve, still peak
bend and flex through December's attenuated

hymn, memories of candlelight six hundred miles
and eight months anterior, resuscitate the song
in other joints surfaces and curves. Or a humid
voice rousing a body from mounds of silent
comfort at nine a.m., when nothing else
compels accelerated pulse through limbs. Except

perhaps the sonorous tones of sigh flash sigh
as we breach the distance, find passage
between golden stars. And lying
in a cleft of melodic symmetry, unleash
their milky rivers: an aria composed of duplicate
hunger- harmonies we've yet to sing aloud.

CK Tower

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