Dawn is a place
to awaken to Her
last breath.
A pause trembles
as if you had surrendered
a deep blood flow
for a trickle
of twilight drool.
An unclasping
turns into empty hands.
You are turned over
like a stone
until your face
like moss
fades into appearance.
Rolled over
into the intimate light
of Her darkness.
Dawn finds you
reaching for Her,
but before you can pull
the sky further inwards
you must sew Her being
around you,
each thread of longing
must be stitched
into your soul
before the blind day
learns to see.
