In the Fragile Moment

In the loosened grasp of midnight
I listen to your shadows
And dare not to think
That the passions we have started
Are slipping down the back
Of my unresisting throat
And into your waiting arms.
My words are just imaginings
Of truth and pure conjecture
Combined to mock the wisdom
Of those more wise than I.

The way your chest is moving
I think I see a pattern
Of the faintly pulsing hollow
At the base of your pale neck
As your pulse chases rumors
Up and down your fragile veins
And you wonder if I'm lying
When I promise that I love you.

I could document your silence
In a thousand wind-swept pages
And put them to the candle,
Let them linger into ashes,
Which I'd scatter on the gravestone
Of our mutual understanding
For our carved lines in the sand
Went endlessly past blurry
'Til we simply couldn't see them
In the distance of our crossing.

We could've both been legends
So much more so than we will be,
Known for our great friendship,
Like Jonathan and David,
But we had to keep on pushing,
Endlessly regressing,
To those pulsing, primal stages
Where all hope has been abandoned
And there's nothing else but taking
And a single kind of love.

And in the fragile moment,
That whispered as it passed us
Of a long-forgotten treasure
And of purity and hope,
We came out of the daylight
And wandered into shadows
Thinking to obscure our weakness
With something much like love.

But those gentle, endless hours
Spent in silent consternation
And shame and fury burning
Are never enough penance
For our legend's become sordid
And opportunity is wasted
To excel at what we were
And can never be again.