Love Face Poem by Oliver Roberts

There is a garden in you,
a field of low clouds and smashed pebbles;
fertile night growing in soft, damp beach sand.
You sprout lost shapes from the shadows of our between,
planting those tiny spaces among us that gape with greed,
and tend to our open mouths with the rain of answered prayers.

When it’s time, our nudity changes,
your blood breaks and knows my sound,
you flourish here and I indent your flesh with drops.
My arms, your breasts, our surrendered eyes, expect us like this,
but we still kiss with surprise hanging off our tongues;
we unlock trains in the dark and race them until they burn.

I unearth you just to smell your name on my hands,
then sleep with you in photographs of sunlight,
touching you with the shape of open windows.
The shine from your love face has erased me,
and so I await a new birth from the way you wake.