oh my sweet spring

i hear it all the time
the sound of someone breathing
in his sleep
next to me
all the time
the sound of someone who is here
in a way but away
really
the sound of a very human weight
the sound of limbs the sound of warm sleeping flesh and dreams
i hear you leaving to where no kiss can reach you
and surely no word
or thought
neither good intention
nor bad
i hear burning
hopes
and desires slipping away
in a vague yesterday
does mouth skin tongue
do thighs and teeth forget
what they have been through
for love
no but now there are sins
impossible to avenge
hungers impossible to satiate or to forget
and there are gifts with no one to be bestowed upon
suspended above us
very far but not far enough
and the sound of a man sleeping
breathing me in
and out
there is a music which is yours and mine
which i have wanted to bring with me
everywhere
at every street every corner
every doorstep
and a death i carry impossible to shape
into me or leave home
say for a day or two
which brings me here to you
but steals away the word the glance the caress
is there anything
anything like beauty
impossible to possess
or perhaps to even know
especially when it is spring and
one grows darker
as though one were at home
on a cloudy april afternoon
and all the words
were not.