365 Poems/66 Ritual
Even after all of these wars
with myself, you still say
that when we are together
you are full of quiet joy.
You have grown accustomed
to the wasp that keeps coming back.
You visit me when it hurts the most,
and I say you don’t know what
you’re letting yourself in for.
You say you know everything
that is worth knowing.
You say that your favourite noise
isn’t silence, but the sound
of my laughter. You say it triggers
your hormones, it makes you alert
and excited at the end of the day,
when your energy supplies have been
When we’re together, it’s like a ritual
of great power. Pain and wonder is shared.
We feed each other.
I tell you how I’m attached to the moon
and it’s glow. That I like to wait under it
until I am silver cold.
You tell me you like building fires,
and putting them out, before kissing me,
and setting foot on another mountain path.