it had become a habit for me
to weep with my pen

a more manageable and deliberate way
of grieving

the broken hearts
failed marriages
miles driven
in poems written

but my eyes never wept for any of them
as they were put away

when you materialized this evening
your voice came
as the sweetest relief

swimming in the night waters

of

everything we are

please know this

after you left

tonight i wept

for you

and the way

we clasped our hands in the desert
within the temple
of unconditional love
before the god of acceptance

the moment my pen understood

your touch is what i’ve been missing