Wild

There was a wild time
and a wild love that
made our crazy sane
and our normal nuts.
You climbed with me
and fell with me,
and the natural crust
between us flaked away
and made us shiver and weep.
We would never keep farther
than a finger ring apart
even when we were lost
to the same city,
you there and me here.

We could hear each other
breathing and connected
as we drifted into sleep,
feckless sentences
and affirmations
in all the emptiness that
tugged our tummies and
sloshed the queasy with
the right and the happy,
till we slipped easily
from waking to our dreams.

Mornings woke for us in
notescraps and napkins kissed,
with smiles wide and
echoes on our lips,
with scrambled eggs
and coffee sips.
We were like the rambling grass
green and perfect on the lawn,
the jumbled dawn
of our bowls now cooked;
no branches out of place
at our table or in the trees.
The nourishment of life
we took and we believed.

We watched the leaves
make green whispers
to the noisy birds,
and heard our need fulfilled
by longing bend upon itself,
loosened from our grasp,
that we might give it
to each other,
throwing wide the hasp
of hesitation in our song,
as everything about us
longed and climbed
the wild joy
of our wild time.

In that single space
we thought all the others
must be blind,
and could not face
and could not find
what we knew would ever be.
We would never be
any other way than
with our certainty,
our feet beneath us
in the clouds,
our goosebumped skin
like rough textured silk
softening the spaces
not yet filled
with the wet yearning of
our hearts and hands.

We could not stand
as we were drunk
with the nearness of ourselves,
the ground’s shelf transparent
the sky leaden
and all the world shrunk
to the pinprick of
our dazzling light,
the night’s starry dance
above – trapped forever
in our wild time
and our wild love.