my portable moonlight

my portable moonlight
lulling me into loving life -
a seductress with your
impermanent posture
pulls me toward a terrifying
peace

i have not tried
hard enough
i have not cried
long enough
to know the
spoils of good love

you blunt me and
you enmeek the brimming
crowds that soon
yield at the knees;
the sky a sable oyster
and you a cunning pearl

i have no impostor
in my bed at night:
my passion is a
greed for something
hot and brutal
and eclipsing

so don't follow me
so much;
your eyes remind me
that i destroy
things and my life
is unclever

there is no precision
in love as a matter
of fact; it's all
a fist of brittle
leaves tossed into
a retreating wind

so you hang there
and i sit up
next to my lover
with my knees folded
and my head cocked
and my soul starched

invent for me
an ending to this story
in which there is
no fatigue of heart
when the lapses of love
come careening

do that for me
at the least
my portable moonlight
and remove from me
an excuse to
loiter in my penalties

because i want
love to be love
and all else to be left;
for life to be life
and all else to be lost
beneath your pale sweep