the trust of weeping souls

i touch your heart from here

even though i can say nothing
to comfort you

i touch your heart from here
in the long, trying night
somewhere between
them and us.

our fingers touch past the ether
and the fumes of sweet air
grace our senses
held aloft through
trying times
so often forgotten
in the thick of it all.

bare, our chests meet
and the heat
of our skin rises.

we gather
the truth of us
here as our lips near
the parting way
of smitten gods.

as an approaching storm,
our breath
breathes choruses
in the night
as the cities burn
in our wake
for the lingering
touches
we take
and the smoke rises
out of sight.

i can touch you from here
as

the ashes beneath
our feet
still quake
with the heat
of rapture
as we meet
in the garden of
burning souls
hidden under the skin
we wear as a mask
to hide
ourselves
from the lust we feel
from the lust that heals
the burden of dusk
in the twilight of
weeping souls.