There are lovers who are lonely,
beds full of dreamless bodies that toss and turn
on each other,
crying themselves into darkness,
darkness taking over the moonlight,
the sunlight falling way to rain.
Their thoughts are dappled with ambivalence,
bleeding hearts rimmed with emptiness,
spilling everything that was
into the nothingness of now,
for they gave and lost themselves,
and lost and gave and lost again.
No longer shining like the sea
nor raging like rivers,
they drift into the doldrums,
the place where half souls dwell
without their mates,
existing as ghosts in the flesh.
Longing for the movement of bodies
longing for completion
longing to go back, longing to take back,
longing, longing, longing to hear the wind whisper
I’ve got you and I’ll carry you home.