Sifting

love is change like a wind moving sand

different but not out of place,

arriving kindly at the door like he was invited

and my sand is sifting, shifting

deep inside my skin

with every glint of sun you throw my way

it almost burns inside me,

the lighting of candles, the making of glass

and i want to drop to my knees and profess it

shale and creek water, the slip and the fall

i’m dead and buried

and sitting at the kitchen table

waiting for you to come home and take me