In the window
at dawn
you used the light
to wink at me.
I came to the window
to admire you
and assess what it would mean
to possess you.
And now inside,
I hold you,
and see that you are etched
with life’s hieroglyphs.
They are a riddle,
and you are a puzzle.
‘I know you,’ I say,
holding your dusky essence,
turning you in my hands.
I hold you up to the light
and look through dark glass,
seeing clearly where I would come to rest
in tortured love sublime.
