i wish to say that my love would be a revelation
gentle plane tracing the curves sanding fine dust
clay under nails hands pushing to mold hourglass
string plucked peg turned string plucked peg turned until the entirety is tuned
melting garlic in oil aromatic scrape pan against burner shuffle
head cradled body enters water baptized wet hair sticking to forehead
gulping air swept in from the waves past haystack rocks eroded top heavy
monastery covenant broken rosary beads scattered across wood floor
collecting of the corners of the universe pulling up to gather all the interstellar immensity
            into itself wrapping you in it and you dragging me in until only our feet show at
            the end and our toes curl and kick against the nothingness left outside of that
            universe hands held above head shaking collision of consciousness affirmation of
            soul

but i know my love to be mountains in silhouette at sunset
charred bark
wet footprints on dew covered grass
reverberation of a piano chord misstruck through empty house off frosted glass
sobs that take the self by surprise
steam rising off sun struck lake engulfing the valley

waiting for a revelation
what sort of love do i have to offer you?

Ryan Evans is a writer from Seattle, Washington and has been published in small literary journals around the United States. Check out more of his work here.