“Nestle, for love ” Laura Carter

You are holy
sacred          center of me           without a slick
as long as there is a sun             One thinks that one knows
a revelation

As long as these incomplete memories
and foolings                 yes                 I come to the end                   of the road
seek                    you                  and what is only                  you have seen nothing
and yet loved
my hands

A word                 wants more               of grief          and wrestling with free will
I doctor myself with the book that decries the heart’s source
and you see that I see

As pure as silk                    I throw a white curtain                    over myself
for this is not a contact                 A paper-thin moon
pauses. We are birds