YEARS Ice, wine, Valentine, Murmur me your dreams of sleep. Restfulness, I know I felt long ago, between stairways and stained knees. I could hear my father's voice, or is it another, younger still? I cannot catch your warm embrace, though I have yet tried to, stilt your will And your advances. I want to feel you but resist I rowed away, and will again, my hand aching in your fist. I can hear my heartbeat undertow - like shattered glass, like air. What lies within - I row awa