Your face, your voice. I would drink their light,
plunge my heart into their splendour, bask

in the hallelujahs of your drastic laughter,
plainspoken friend elbowing me in the ribs
whenever I need to be nudged out of a funk.

Take me by the hand, yank me out of my garret,
draw me into your temple of tumbledown graces!

Wherever you keep what’s most dear to you,
make room for me: your court jester, your fool:
a troubadour who waits upon your smile.