How Far We All Come Away

in the hands of every bashful mother

is a quiet delay some calm to recover

accepting all kindness and blindness to all

them who fire away demanding a reason

and i'd never beckon or for one second dare

ever call you away o but they sing, embracing, for you

our bodies exhausted fall sideways to lay

and your arms made a place where my face liked to bury

then lifting (but not lifting) but drifting away

to where the angels would play like you'd almost forgotten

and then on with the next breath so impossibly new

like the curve of your waist all warm and ceramic and smooth

i dont want to go home

i want to come home

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