Steady as a heartbeat.
Not mine, but yours.
Under my ears during the darkest hours of the night.
When I press out from my eyelids all vapor of worry
before they coalesce into a nacreous mist of
memory or dream, vision or blurred
troubled or troublesome or troubleseeking – which we’ll both admit tends to be my nature.
But steady as your heart beat,
are the humble murmurs of inarticulate blessings and prayers and chants of
delight and wonder at each moment when I feel safe with you.
Soft like a eyelash, potent as stone, ever dear to me until all earths clocks tire and rust.
(what are poetica spontenaiums? my writing exercises to write poetry in under 10 minutes – immediately capturing… something. Most of it is crap. And I don’t care.)