In an Uncertain Hour

You are painted on the wall with the angels.
Resting above where my head sinks.

Heavy dreams hang the night, and from
the shade emerges your bright face.

I hide in the darkness, between full breath
and smoke obscuring the eye’s truth.

Nothing could wish to escape that gaze.
Dark stones that punctuate soft shape.

Yet still, I hide in the darkness,
behind a veil that blocks my shames.

Only a quiet voice breaks the still,
words shaking in an uncertain hour,

silent gasps yearning for distant taste
from foreign lips that touched the wind.

You are painted on the wall with the angels.

in-an-uncertain-hour

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