Moonwater

You found me

where the warm lights thin,

where midnight folds the blue into

a tight seam,

where all my guarded edges

are only broken glass

in a silver dream.

~~~

You move like

moonlight, dressed in rain.

Stars reach down around you,

stooping low,

teaching my lips the sacred kiss

yours already knows.

~~~

I never learned

to tame a rising tide.

So when you speak my name,

something stirs—

something always half-dead,

called to life.

~~~

So pull me under

moonwater.

Let me sink beneath your light,

a psalm on crashing waves.

Your halo trembles

as I drown in your divine,

baptized in the sounds you make.

~~~

Your shadow falls

like Jericho, in wisps

of song and smoke.

I sing, I breathe, until breath

is taken from me.

You’re the altar

where I lay each sin down

slow—

confession, our liturgy.

~~~

I stare, and get lost,

in your teasing, ancient eyes;

your gaze stirring ripples

in my blood, like

mercy

wrapped in appetite,

turning ripples

to thrumming flood.

~~~

I’m no priest

in this temple of devotion,

until you lay your silver on me—

a blessing that I can wear.

So bless my piety

as my worship breaks you open,

until you answer

every prayer.