The Bluest Blade - Jeffrey Foucault

Thrown up against the dying end of heaven

Beating with the zero of my blood

Home to see my baby coming home

Falling like a stone or like a dove

Hard as any stone brought down in wishes

Bright as any flower made to bloom and blaze and

Falling to the ground like China dishes

Our love is only teaching us to fall

And I fall to you

Down from here

Like a shadow thrown

Love the bluest blade

Cuts deepest from the dark

Of all we own

Balanced on a sliver shot through the blacking

Hung up as if by God’s unreckoned string

Brave enough for leaving brave enough

For coming home with what my tiny heart can bring

And I kissed onto the concrete from out of dreaming

Pulled the ground against me like a shroud

Fevered as a child my body burning

Burning just to lay your body down