Fear of Shadows

(for E. H.)

Now, in the time that happens in between –
(time marches on in its circular parade) –
there comes another You. I haven’t seen
all of the versions yet, and I’m afraid
of the shadows of myself these suns create.
Yet among them, you are phosphorescent white,
and I haven’t seen my shadow much, of late.
How nice, to dance in a fog of blinding light!

Nothing is okay, and yet you make
me feel it is. Wondrous is your touch,
and happy are the corners of your eyes.
And with your soft embrace you sweetly slake
my thirst for you; and with your lips and such,
you suck me into shadow-absent skies.