As daylight tore away the empty streets

Approaching The Cup

As daylight tore away the empty streets 
women fingered their jewels,
and almond scented wrists begged
for whitest sleeves to press against. 

We whispered riddles to ourselves
that only oracles could understand.
It seemed you and I 
were the speaking out 
of faith to faith.

I knew then
your suns and designs
and the truest tales of our mothers
that challenged the twisted boy 
mourning trumpets he could never play.

One of our lips parted
and the most reckless anthem of the wise, 
a vast ruin—lawful, yet kind 
swept up among the blackened boon
of space's morning eternal.