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A Hymn
Madison Yardumian

            Fragrance drifts
through the air
like worship
            wrecked
by the wind in my eye

            Love will not look to me
                       but for you
                       I will ossify

if beauty is desire
press me against
a window
and call me stained glass

If promise is vacancy
grip the tender in my voice
& seep
into spokeness



                                                                     Maybe love isn't
​                                                                     what we give
​                                                                     but what refuses
​                                                                     to fall
​                                                                     apart

​
                 The cathedrals
​                 we build
​                 with the gleam
​​                 in our eyes

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