I’m jaded-shy enough to miss it.

              Maybe it’s the radiance
      Of a sun-caught desert grain,
  A starry ember
To fire-stain my flake of ash;
Something so importantly small:
The sash to a sumo,
Pluto’s whisper-lash to Styx,
The fickleness of man to Juno—
  What is it you’ve returned to me?
      My whimper?
    A remix of my past dreams?
  A suddenly unsleeping eye?
A giant’s temper on newborn legs?
The dregs of a too-still hope,
Its reminiscence of the tenderest kiss?
And, I chase you, why?
I’m jaded-shy enough to miss it.
Where have you been?
Why lay the jags
Through my faded sky,
The zigzags of my hesitant grin?
Why take so damned long
To sing-song me to a faith again
In rewritten wrongs?
I’m a ghost, gliding away;
  A wraith who’d curl you up
    In the corner of my smile,
      Take your cup and slake
      Most, if not all, my thirst.
    But what should I say?
  You’re the longest mile;
I was cursed to fall
The day I read the lines on your face,
  Understood your glint.
    I’m yet the hint of a flightful
      Man fully woke to gravity.
      Grace, I’ve lost my lightful—
    Go ahead and stoke the cinder,
    Sift my depravity;
      Hinder my somber march,
            Trip up my woe-is-me.
                  Lift me into you;
              I’ve had it rough,
          Though I’d not show it.
        Whatever your strength,
          I, far more than
              Your reach’s farthest length,
                        Should you dare to know it,
                                          Pray it’s enough.

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