lover in time

we trust, willfully or by
loving compulsion, in the
midst of measures, teetering
on the edge of life and a bar line.
anemic curvatures slash a
burning record, halts hanging notes
in the air, this is (y)our song.

you set sail on an expedition of soul,
skipping stone and crushing snow, trial
in self worth and taste. drunk on colored
glass and pebbled mosaic, you carve
your own excavation in thatches of
sable and cracking marble. i find
my favorite in notches of sangria and

navy. burgeoning stars begin in flushes
of red on skin and sink into a garland of
platelets, forging rivulets, deluges in
crimson. the largest of all, sun, settles
below my iris atop a patch of flesh, forces
a feathery lid shut. it drums in black and
blue in time to a record. i find comfort in glaciers

and ice giants in hopes they hold fast
against stuttering pain
in callous blows.