The Poles

The Poles

are within us,

insurmountable

while Awake,

we sleep across, to the Gate

of Mercy,

I lose you to you, that

is my Snow-Comfort,

say, that Jerusalem is,

say, as if I were this

your Whiteness,

as if you were

mine,

as if without us we could be we,

I open your leaves, forever,

you bless, you bed

us free.