To the ever turning world

To the ever turning world

and the hope of each new dawn

 

I give you the parts of my arms, sore

The taste on the backs of my teeth, gritty

The calm of my bed,

 

in the exact moment you wake me

kissing my eyelids with your

changing

light like a lover’s lips, a mother’s lips

Like you’ve known love yourself

can’t help but move like love moves

even when we are burning.

 

You’re turning.

Your turning.

Turn, and teach me

even unto death.

31poemsMegan Jones