what is the place
where things stop dying?
where throats are cleared
of sawdust fear
where we are no longer choked
by apprehension

it must exist
float somewhere in the ether
not unicorns and pegasus
nuzzling each other in riverside moss
not fable or fantasy
just water
clear as truth
and comfortable to wade in
i hope that i will find you there
in that nowhere place
waist deep and undesiring of fig leaves
i hope that i will find you there
you and your blue reflection
body bare and glistening with veracity
i hope that you will welcome me
into the stream
that we can meet each other
clean
and hold hands firmly
not like Parisian lovers under oil lamps
but intentionally
warriors
architects
inheritors of an unconquered earth

when is that place?
things stop dying
and where?
will you meet me there?
intrepid and hot-fleshed
will you collect me
drip by drip into your arms
and bathe with me
till we are redeemed
and clean enough to love