changling

So the grand-paned windows
the pale painted galaxy blue,
the hurried-harried passers-by,
this Grand Central;
It alone bears witness to the nervous first approach;
two fauns, each approaching, near, back - back, near knees trembling.
So what then next?
Is there nothing in the moment?
We’re so good at the come hither quick retreat.
But this…do you sense the last chance…
we do, you do… step outside the confines of you….
Reassurance comes in so many ways.
You parse gently – hand steadying thigh.
I could die in this moment
So long have I waited.
you?
All the while the train bumps parallel to the the river viaduct.
I grow sweet as a fig on the branch.
Too shy to look to you, I turn my face to the sunlit cliffs,
the palisades we’ll see as we walk the long-way home;
the midsummer air leaves me breathless
we rest then at an over-look,
watch the smooth current of the blue-grey river.
I see but do not see.
Such beauty in the moment.
Simple - you whisper without warning,
There are so many ways…
Brace me with your arms: catch the would-be faint.
You call me by the Hebrew...
Refuse the stop. A tightly furled rose, you tease me open.
A gasp, your name, you wait for the call...
Wait for the surrender.
Maydala, Maydala…you say
God, you tell me, God, you are so beautiful.
And in that moment, I feel myself become.