Sonnet
As miners descend down deep everyday
not knowing if they'll ever return,
I let myself keep falling off your cliff
eagerly. Senselessly. For the dark smell
of your cheek, the hot coal of lips
on mine, the ordinary plumb of your hip
blasting. I hit bottom again and again,
lights snap on, loading cars hiss. I
hear the steam rise over my shoulder.
Your dark earth, all around me.
There's no panic, no rush. Only
the urge to smudge my face, mark
myself with your easy shale. Love,
let us never come up for air.
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