Morning

In morning: mourning
In mourning: morning
Where you dwell
in another's eye
in another's heart
we part there

and before I see a tree
and before I pour
light's first cup of tea
I paint your face inside my eyelids
and clasp handfuls
of the only words
that ever came to me,
came to me before you saw me
these words that built me
before you drew me
loved me before you knew me.

Over shoulders we read come evening
when Word and You draw in
one page one night one moment
held
til we expire