Hymn, Him

Hymn, him -
a brocade of dryness
on lips hit with a song
that sunk into the gut,
wasn't sung.

A river of light
leapt into life,
coiled a snake
around my eyes -
I read the hymn,
him.

An anklet, a sore -
he held me an oar;
my trance, a spoonful
of music and pain.
Every time I part the waters,
I remember him.

Scrape me into sand,
drape the wind around me -
aboard the air, I'd recite
him.