amber hair
when you feel me in the empty circle of bed
shipwrecked of openness.
all appeared loving become a bursting in my flesh.
do not waste the breaths that i gave you, because
all our existential loves
are but fictional ikons of mind
when we realize that we are finally alone......
and listen to our ghosts of remorse as
we lie together in half darkness satisfied
demanding more rupture naked
as dismembered absence of carnal touch
an intermezzo of
broken poetry of our eyes
now breaking as shapes of tone and solitude
embracing enslaving the paths of our heart ...as if we had one..
our souls will pass as blood and skin and auburn and brown hair
a buoyant bloom touch of trembling April kiss
before we set out in the exile of longing
as lighthouses ,as love forms , objects of desire...we will be
survivors of confessions close to our
wounds mesmerized separate but the same for the taking.
__________________
