tom taylor - it is

it is

beneath the hole with no bottom, the lake
with no reflection, black sun scheduled blank
signing no air above whores no air seen as at
I call you no air hand over hand unseen rotes

love’s air no emptiness seen this dark shadow;
in my heart’s woe emptiness waves the shore
below no signs are carried forth no woe betides
harries the smoke along betimes your own score

this smoke your eyes declare my own this air this
love’s anchor clings us here together unknown pairs
align the new times as if unknown, as if unknown,
I call you down into me seeming love’s smooth air