Heart’s Desire

Love is cornflower, along the crease of your eyelid

dusty, for me, I hum in your drift, in your ear,

love is for sinners, too. We add on another wing,

so we can hang over the water and catch the white

caps, I love to say this in your dreams, we have time

and there isn’t enough room, even there. So this,

chicken scratch, to find the hypotenuse of your jaw

some angle of eyeblink to eyeblink, love won’t hold

still, long enough to know. Love to say this with my

hands, my bloodline is rich with laborers, the red heat

speaks, love works hard from sun up to sundown.

The white caps are incantatory, a blink of cornflower.

Love you side-sleeping in a west-facing wing. I

calibrate the sinking sun to a low humming orange, I

measure its mantle of light, love falls right through in

small degrees, your jaw is uncountable, hold still,

sorry, I try.

.

(egon schiele)