Glorious Gloom

late love, with courage,
traced and faded with a foolish eye;
the redemption feels like fog, like frenzy,
like soft muted mornings I can barely long for
..............
I slink too easily like an array of clouds
across Kerouac's tomb, a widow to black.words
that once felt cotton
and kiss
.
love's ordained dream; stately
in its space between two breathing windows,
one open, one wanting to be,
watching for a poet
to write epiphanies in a prism
to add color to the soul of an inanimate creature,
such as myself,
caught in the loom of nothing to speak
of
........
I am lonely
for the innocence of sacred life
.