She

A Poem by Dean

It was her kiss
that sent a shaft of light
into confounding blackness where the dead
would hold their rites of cold fraternity--
as if the border of that town were there
to mark a private paradise.

Her kiss, I found enough
to counteract those graceless thoughts
that swept across the meadow of my mind
like fresh cold winds
intruding on an evening stroll.
I sought her there, of course;
I needed something cosmic,
something of the world outside
to pull me from the pit of disillusionment.

I think she knew that there would be
no waking in the idle laughter that she heard--
no sighing softness under her caress,
(should she be bold enough to touch cold flesh)
and so she took my hand, and then she kissed me!
Though I knew her not, her warmth,
the fullness of her lips
brought joy beyond exuberance, for then
the blistered morn in radiance
could magnify the sun,
while she and I and all the blessed earth
were one.
~