Language Scraps

Without

In twilight, I saw your shadows
manifold and manifest
apart as all robust aching, mine
and began
to light so that nothing could see
as I felt around the edges of my being
not the shape my eyes know but
harrowed
literal and innocent
a strangeness of relevance protruding
as if
and still, trepidatious fingers molding
every sidelong glance as though
having just met
I
were prior to every arrival.

chc 10.24.10