Euphoria

that space where you once laid
the rasp of your voice
on empty museum walls
pious and kind
or so we like to say

you took the words from my open mouth
and made them into a prophecy

the light of my morning haze
and the warm aura of your humour
merely exists in fragments
of love and lost language
when religion has never been my forte

but I can see it now
I can see why everyone believes in benevolence,
when you and I have always fit together
so completely
and so impossibly
standing in your place