The Space Where Heaven Closes...

(By Gub, Toronto, the 13th of March)

...the dark arc of the firmament
This edge of fire,
Burns like phosphorous

Against a flotilla of stars.

Circle back
Through breathes
Of time

Capture each second of
Wakefulness,
Each nuance
Missed,

A child’s cough, a
Chuckle of laughter

Those red rose petals
Crushed flat by a kiss.

The shift in your gown,
As Love opens
That draft of bliss.

Drift through heaven
Alone,
The past
Behind me closes,

Home seems hopeless
And far

Ridiculous

Your closeness in my heart.

Time and space form a celestial
Body,

An unholy bar.