Trysts

“I wait for you still, as if you could arrive”

“You Have Not Died” Vahan Derian

1

The trees wombs of wind and sound that find me poised this hour to rip out a -

I love you i am falling from these hills searching meadows for your-

I thought i saw you this evening it was just dark the mountains brief the cool air gathering in pools of wind we might run

from

2

Here we are and here we will bury our hearts here at last we will fail so gently so desirably fail into one another into the land into the sound of the land that is the sound of our-

I want to know how to make a moon for this rain a full wound to drench the sky with and patch above the-

When we work ourselves into the ground it will be like love first love we will take our hands and shoulders and thighs into a juxtaposition that is nothing if not

fatal

3

The street darkens no light left to seal in its corners and fit about its-

We have not yet found the land that we will leave to find

home

My hands are failing softly down your hair it is winter there tonight it is wind the deep sparrows failing softly down the wind down the brief wounds of land that make our

4

graves