Carving

I am yours. I go shouting to the night
so the winds may tell the sands.
Beneath the soft white lamp
my love dances with the shivering stars.

How brightly the sun envies us.
The heart of Jerusalem turns and
bows before you, sweet shining temple.
I kneel and pray to you.

Crisp air is my soft sacrifice now,
Heavy on my breath like an
annual commemoration, to go
without in exchange for the eternal.

Precious stone, my heart is carved from you,
Engraved with the verse of my desire.
I am yours. I go shouting to the night
so the winds may tell the sands.

carving

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