Words I borrow, as if belonging

could rise on the breath,

break an everlasting fall.

I fold close your long lankiness,

your 10 inscrutable years.

You smile into my shoulder,

sun shafting in a blue-brown face,

light that swallows you, lifts

your eyes of knotted dreams

and stories that disappear.

My boy, if only I could carry you back,

map a place where love began,

marrow stitch and heartwood song

to rest your faultless why.

But here you are,

scalding these arms

with your sweetness,

the sting of hope that still resists

the way a wanting quiets.

 (for Mukutwarine)