Verse: Installation

NB: I always feel apologetic for leaning on love, like I might weaken her through overuse and abuse. But she demands to be heard, so I acquiesce.

So this
is your harvest

thick lines
and static?

I would prefer
a blue sky
a winter coat

I want transformative
light and color
to pass through me
like thread through a cloth

Would that this
arbitrary space
were private
and intimately engaged
with us

or that the guards
would acknowledge
our modest entreaties
for tenderness

and that you
were open
to the inevitable
necessity
of hope
and love