Carving Bliss

Carving Bliss

Little crumbs, the perfect words never said.
Bliss carves text, if the meaning is right.

How impermanent are the tappings we make?
Better to reave our breath into stone.

Delicate thoughts shatter against the canvas
crying out; fleeting and beautiful.

MGB

Favoured Love

Tended Love

The source of our love
is buried in our bones.

How much of us
will become a menagerie of favours?

Tiny gift-actions endearing
our love, tangling it through our hair
and our habits.

Each kiss, eventually repaid.

I wake to wash the cutlery
before you get home.

Money and monotony
are our only enemies. 

You quietly wash the whites
as I sleep through the morning.

Let us give like this,
returning and returning,
tangling and tangling,
So that if we forget
of bones and blood
nothing
could untie
our inelegant knots.

MGB