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Empty Next

We escaped it again, didn’t we?
We Freudian-slipped nest to next —
do you remember, an hour ago at lunch
that quick creeping up to it
that semi-glow feel of it
that open, brave dew of it
like we were really on it?
Then the fading…fast fading away from it;
we are strong masters of elusion you and I
even knowing It is the silken thread
to open, or lift the heart anew.

If you lie still, I will pull it gently through your throat
this will not hurt,
there will be no blood
it will be a sudden sliding and
when you see it — NO, when you hold it
it will become your kite’s string and
you will fly — fly mighty from your familiar nest;
empty will become full again.
Let me pull it…let me pull it…
let me pull it now, and we can soar together.