Black ink and sunbeams poetry

Paint the sky with hope,

split the edge of light with a brushstroke,

the horizon folds itself along your jawline

close to me, like ink upon the skin

between my shoulders

my love,

we sowed the seeds of our salvation unto exile,

we packed down the dust of youth,

we watered the beds with grief

have we time for another harvest?

Or, the Red-Caps behind us,

flee across the Atlantic,

least we join our books upon

their pyre

history, rewritten,

swallows your memory,

your bones, charred,

cry out

Gabriel,

rooted before

the gates of Eden,

answers