I’m convinced that
Time ended
and began again
with your love,

I’m convinced,
if you would have me,
the stars would break
their vows
to the night

and crumble like living glitter
all around, each particle
of our contained infinity
a voice
to tell the story
of our love.

I’d tell the gods to stop
demanding our attention,
and command the
Universe to
dissipate outside our
holy space.

Upon a
warm and yearning altar
one flame
and then another
would blind the envious
eyes of dawn,

and I’d die in this fire
and be reborn
a fleck of morning
sun, or the dew
that paints
itself like platinum joy
upon a recreated
earth each
day.

Or I would be
the earth
when it gives birth
to a clean and
savage blue,
a pale memory of
your embrace,

a sky cleansed, at last,
of longing for
the light.

I would. Oh God,
how I would
love you.

© Patricia Joan Jones