Paradise bound

by doubt’s heavy claw.


Our promises were

fracturing. The hour

melted into sleep

then confusion.


In the bed where our stones

were gathered like oracles

of deliverance came the touch

of communion, your hands

crossing my boundary flesh.


Splitting the atmosphere,

and your eyes, feverish with love’s

great skill.


You circled me,

sliding down

through the stronghold space

between, entered

and gave what in tomorrow

I may never find.




Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst





Published in “Our Poetry Archive” June 2018




You can listen to the poem by clicking below:




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