To Cleave and Be One

Was it a hot displeasure that brought us here?

The angel of air, palms extended, clouds

between us, have mercy on us, how long,

my love, I’m so close to tears; I’ve drenched my couch

with tears, I’m the memory of a mountain

hollowed out, a rendezvous with suffering

made into an occasion to be un-

covered, uninhibited, reaching out in the shade

of the serpent and the heat of life. Please

hear my supplication, my soul is sore

vexed, dark and divine, have mercy on me.

A thundercloud has come to bury me

so I may rain down onto your pastures.

When my bones shook with terror, you took me

and made for me a final disposition:

Nothing, nothing, nothing composed this love.

Ben Pease is the author of the full-length poetry collection Chateau Wichman: A Blockbuster in Verse (Big Lucks Books). His poems have recently appeared in American Poetry Review, Poetry Northwest, jubilat, Biscuit Hill, and 7x7, among others. He is a co-founder of the Ruth Stone House and editor at Sistrum Books.