A Science

There’s a science in the way your silent head falls
A tenderness my silhouette holds,
But all of this imagined,
I’m sent to sleep.
A scraping of what used to be
But more what’s still desired
I’ve seen it as I look upon the fire
And now I’ll start to get it from up higher.

We must unhinge this quaintly painting
Of homely lusting from the past
And remember like a hand
Around a well-known corner in the dark
That time brings what the tide’s made of
While we’ve been whispering of love.