A Meal

All hills and gullies
Mounds and little mountains
You rise up early
In the night
In dreams so real
That sleep and waking
Meet, dissolve and blur

A sacrament you are
Made of salt
And tasting not unlike
cinnamon or soda water
As I pull you to me.

A meal you are
A meal you make of me.

We devour one the other
As though we were
some hungry giants
having fasted
all the winter
hungry now for spring

I see no end
To this stored-up appetite
This emptiness
That only loving
Up and down a lifetime
Will fill up

But I have wished too much
Or just enough
To bring you here
Almost to the final step


One meter gone
Or one mile away
You are
Just out of reach now
Or too near
To make perspective work