“Grasp this brazen idol,”
and burn bright with me. Then I’ll
hear your whispers, another
quiet indulgence before we go.
Soul to cinders and light; long, long
into that night.
Past the city streets and gas lamps,
beyond the gates and stacks, I’ll tear your glove
away and against the wind we’ll see
a hilltop, its willow breathing. You’ll
point to it, chest heaving. Then
we sprint, words trailing dust in wake
two shadows burning against
the indigo dusk at stake.
Beyond the docks, the shipwrecks
show everything I forgot to forget.
”I have seen them before,” I’ll say,
lips curled into words so broken
you’ll reassemble so I can replace.
Then my hat you’ll cast to sea,
our thoughts naked in the mist
where our souls first met,
trading regrets for promises.
And your hand, it will tremble
a terrible tremor, but not for fright.
Beyond the graveyards, phantom howls
tear in the wind, and shadows deepen
to color our hearts reluctant.
But we’ll grasp our brazen idol,
and cast between darkness a light
to guide our wayward eyes.
And still we’ll follow and
before long we’ll arrive
at that hilltop, our lantern burning
long, long into that night.
22: To Love a Friend in Chapters
