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Tryst Poetry by John Eivaz |
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Tryst Poetry by John Eivaz |
| Sanctuary |
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what a title why not something about the dance of grey birds the way they fly away together when disturbed by circumstance around them? why not describe work you can be lost in to hide loss? dance will end so too work doors must remain open yet your breath first palatable imagined relished blankets my neck a fog lips create wisp by wisp wanders within apart from my fingers sure upon skin joining in hips' dancing hot creations too slight for a poem's ho-hum holy misdirection just right for us breath and body hide all else sky empties efforts hollow in a dawn's niche harbor music amplifies this safe untitling of our lives
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