if despair had a name

if he brings a midnight poem he's written
will i let him read it
will we read it a few times
out loud, as we have in the past
and if he shoots like a rocket
into the forest, igniting the fire
as he has in the past
will i want to see him again

because his voice
lifts the gray from flowers
because he says i swell and
break the silence within him

i have carried him
sleep-quiet and placed his
broken body in the arms of aphrodite
to let the shadows fall away
so i could see his heart
resembled mine

yet i want to ask him
when will i know enough
to stand still

to find our truth, love
and all the nonsensical things
before it's lost
in the maelstrom of consequence