body of mountain, cream and concrete
peeling paint - you are rosacea
defined, crackle skin I run my fingers under
and crush between my teeth. taste of
salt and soil, of burdening years
that rub water in your joints. precious
blessed bridge beauty, breathing heat
and sweating rain, you darling
that shakes, and shakes, and remains.
when I am ash and shadow, wax
for the candlemaker, you'll stand still
silent, soft strain-taker, train-carer,
and hold my love poems
in your cold stones.