the skin he placed over
her shoulder was
his own
unaltered or new
but aged as a oak ages
well on its own with the seasons
in full
her every breath his
as he tracked her
though movements of fever and flesh
pale flesh pushed strong to a corner grove -
still dressed in autumn
calling out its first
cry of migration
Words uttered, almost whispered...beautiful!!
ReplyDeleteI liked the ending references migration and I suspect potential loss.
ReplyDeleteThis makes me feel as the last sweet kiss before parting... If there is any song to go with this it has to be "One more cup of coffee..." by Dylan
ReplyDelete