Only What We Are

In our steeplechase around the Moon and back,
to deny we are in love,

we forget the truth that we are what we are;
the tongues of candlelight cannot tell us lies;

we have eaten from the clean floors of our bodies
when no one else would even touch our feet.

We are given to each other in strange ways,
and though as separate as pockets

for too many days at a time,
we are still part of one clipping

the Moon sliced from the Human Tree
and left to grow into something

teeming and celestial.

"Robert"