Glory

You come to me and doors within
fly open, their sharp reports a song
of heated welcome for your sojourn here

here within me, where your giggle sounds
like tiny bells forged by pixie hammers
tantalizing, enlivening and youth-bringing

our salon of two, discourse traded
in the currency of hope, of appetite
yes the desire to devour our humanity

through exploration of the self
and presentation of that self
to one another, an argent, breathy gift

no expectation of measurement
no striving to be more, in fact
the striving is to be less, and therefore

we verbally struggle to raise the other
higher until we breathless, pagan worshippers
of each other are both looking down

from approving stars, our chaperones
of abandon, our million muses of night
until our parting darkens me

like a carnival in slumber
in the small hours of secrecy
leaving sweet recollection of our love

I await your coming, your rushing river
of fantastical energy, your currents of kindness
and laughingly we ride to our sea of glory

Come to me.