Like A Love Thing Poem by Cheryl Renaud

The day is resting. I opened the
door and let you in my house
On the sofa, we made blends of warmth
while the television talked all night
by itself
Maybe loneliness is cured through
another kind of loneliness
I knew this when I saw
your hair filled with many sunsets.

When I hugged you last night,
your tread outside my door fell
like the march of the Celts-
heavy, foreboding
I felt coiling behemoths urge me
to go back inside
because mignons of darkness were uncurling
I knew it was time to fumble my prayers
to bridal heaven
where archaic midnight stars in
their scintillating paths roamed
I cried one god
till I knew what wasn't being there,
silence folding me into sleep.
Your gaze filled with many sunsets.