fern capella

we are past terms, past the tropic of Capricorn,
we are the last moon come orbiting around,
past the orb of sound, we are past speaking,
past our sweet exchange of heat we've moved
past common ground, far from fixed and almost
found our giant expanse a tethering dance, large
bodies pulling, unwilling to leave at first glance
but universe creates the chance and we just
falling forward, wielding swords and umbilical cords
unsure of which will stave the hordes, unsure
of which will feed us, which will keep us
in her sympathy, we are past human speech, moved
on out past days and weeks we are past anything
that binds us that reminds us of our human cuts, we
are past our past ability to see - and so in these
tiny breaths i fumble forward in front of death,
fingers brush on nothing, our giant expanse a tethering
dance, no thing to see, i find your formless hands
in vacant darkness, no air, no land below us, nothing
to hold us, no light bringing our faces in focus,
shedding these heavy bodies, born again like locusts,
we puddle and pool and part as part of what will be
and with this breath i carry on your company.