General Poetry posted September 23, 2022


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Glory

by Brady Bowen

You come to me and doors within 
fly open, their sharp reports a song
of heated welcome for your sojourn here

here within me, where your giggle sounds
like tiny bells forged by pixie hammers 
tantalizing, enlivening and youth-bringing 

our salon of two, discourse traded
in the currency of hope, of appetite 
yes the desire to devour our humanity

through exploration of the self 
and presentation of that self 
to one another, an argent, breathy gift 

no expectation of measurement 
no striving to be more, in fact 
the striving is to be less, and therefore 

we verbally struggle to raise the other
higher until we breathless, pagan worshippers
of each other are both looking down 

from approving stars, our chaperones 
of abandon, our million muses of night
until our parting darkens me

like a carnival in slumber 
in the small hours of secrecy 
leaving sweet recollection of our love 

I await your coming, your rushing river
of fantastical energy, your currents of kindness 
and laughingly we ride to our sea of glory

Come to me. 
 



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