With What is Left of the Moon Tonight

I bronze those years as wild
but did we disappear
into shyness
mildly trembling
from undiagnosed gaze
thoughts that ate us whole?

Gone unappeased for weeks
the sun, the day and night
falling upon us
as the road squints
and is growing from tiny,
drowning, reinventing in bed.

You've come with me, silently
your words flickering
peripheral--ghostly
an axis buried
so deep underground
not even breath breaks or stirs.

But you can locate me as if--
as if by a sensuous sonar
just your mouth
closing in with
rush, ache, amusement
wordlessly speaking of touch.