for-

this, too, love, in loneliness

a midnight moon is good for this

your strength's a secret undesired to be found

no secret then

your fists make declarations on the ground

its blindness, its blindness

its blindness absorbs

to keep it secret

to keep it secret

things matter

they do not matter

it is purple and we are here,

love,

here

we are

making offerings back to the sea

the traffic trounces all things Holy,

anything spilt, we may have spilt here,

oh, come to bed and let it be,

tomorrow starts us over.