Dwight Stevers: Poetry

	Poetry
	Dwight Stevers

Sky-eyes
- for Varian
I held you in that moment in little boy intimacy while the ocean dripped from your sky-eyes and gods peered into me. The big strong man that you are growing stronger from the trust. Please forgive me – you must or we'll never move on. Nestled in blanket arms tender in your curling I stroked your hair and remembered dark men, a tent, material, burning cloves, jewels, a dagger. Your sky-eyes grew dark as we made love on blood red pillows piled high with forgiveness. As a boy you rode with camels. As a man you claimed me as your own. Patterns can't be broken if we're alone – patterns on sheets, patterns in our souls patterns in the sand we drew with our fingers patterns on our bodies we trace with our tongues. The dryness of the desert is eased in tears. The salt burns my heart, gives me reason to thirst. Oasis cocoon, a tent draped in patterns dark men making love for the last time. You penetrate me and I die – a thousand little deaths each moment – and in that moment I forgive you. A camel is walking through the desert bejeweled in artisan's blankets. My heart is walking through the centuries seeking an oasis, a familiar pattern. We're family, brothers in the sky. Forgive yourself, the guilt is not yours alone. Gaze on me with your sky-eyes and hear the song of our past, the music of this moment.

Sky-eyes

- for Varian

I held you in that moment in little boy intimacy
while the ocean dripped from your sky-eyes
and gods peered into me.
The big strong man that you are
growing stronger from the trust.
Please forgive me – you must
or we'll never move on.
Nestled in blanket arms tender in your curling
I stroked your hair and remembered dark men,
a tent, material, burning cloves, jewels, a dagger.
Your sky-eyes grew dark as we made love
on blood red pillows piled high with forgiveness.
As a boy you rode with camels.
As a man you claimed me as your own.
Patterns can't be broken if we're alone –
patterns on sheets, patterns in our souls
patterns in the sand we drew with our fingers
patterns on our bodies we trace with our tongues.
The dryness of the desert is eased in tears.
The salt burns my heart, gives me reason to thirst.
Oasis cocoon, a tent draped in patterns
dark men making love for the last time.
You penetrate me and I die –
a thousand little deaths each moment –
and in that moment I forgive you.
A camel is walking through the desert
bejeweled in artisan's blankets.
My heart is walking through the centuries
seeking an oasis, a familiar pattern.
We're family, brothers in the sky.
Forgive yourself, the guilt is not yours alone.
Gaze on me with your sky-eyes and hear
the song of our past, the music of this moment.

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