Twinkling

Photo by Aleksandr Skobeltcyn on Unsplash

In this space
for the hope-mongers
shouting possibilities
in these unlikely circles
of the risen dead.

One day,
your wooden frame softened.
Rebirth in your grin
suddenly twinkling
with each new discovery,
with warmth exponential.

My compulsion to lean into you
A surprise for me,
usually compelled by darkness,
to be so drawn to your light.

This playfulness
lifts grief’s
lingering gauze from my frame
and this laughter
cracked open
Now calls for more

I desire at times
to tangle my fingers through your aura
and wrap limbs around your limbs,
to curl up in your flannel
and taste the joy of connection.
To be alive, present, and embodied
with you
and deny any consequence
for such visceral callings,
for such generous
gifts to spirit.