Remove the spies

from my grief.

I cannot defend myself

with such pale armour.

I cannot tell you it will be eternal,

this day in which I burn for your soft mouth.

I cannot say the door is there,

it is always there.

I drown kisses on your neck.

I reach that wave of endless choice,

returning from episode to episode

of our unforgettable unions. And then

the stars seem to stumble around

the globe, tripping for no reason

into grave oblivion. Like us, they have

their secrets and sorrows they cannot

share. Like us, they glow in the night’s

pool-deep eye, unanchored

despite the gravity.



© 1992 by Allison Grayhurst





First published in “Raven Cage, Issue 26” September 2018




Published in “Our Poetry Archive” November 2018



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:



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