Time’s atrophy
coldest eastern sun, ascend
and enter into holy torch ablaze
with peripheral awakening  
parting stars, pierce red blood
above frozen petals infinite aloft
upon dead black water  

In this oblivion, atoms hesitate  
and the earth becomes bleak and shapeless
beneath a suffering once impermeable
now swelling into a deeper silence
the chrysalis of memory  
defending its river
the nadir of dawn’s winter

I want to believe in steady things,
but even my own reflection changes
when I look too long.
Are you here?
Do you love me?
Will you stay?
I ask without asking,
watching for the answer
in the way your hands move,
the way your breath hesitates before a word.

I know I feel too much,
ask too much,
but the silence between us is louder
than anything I could say.
So I fill it.
With words, with fear, with love—
all spilling over,
all too much,
all at once.

And still, I wonder, if it’s enough.