Saturday, August 13, 2011

Per Esistere
                  "to exist"

Hiding from the morning sun
In tossed sheets
having wrestled threefold with you–

I find you not here.
Not even a shadowed warmth,
or the scent of your sweat
mimics where your body might have lain.

So I close my eyes, and picture again
the light as it attaches to your face
your gaze from across the room,
the same light I hide from cursedly
now in the early morn.

Your paused look. I rewind
and watch highlights and shadows
glide across your face.
Your eyes give me away
as I revel in a dream.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

The Answer

her voice. The barn owl
campfires crackling wind (all back-
drops) put me to sleep.
The nipping wind pays no mind
to our body heat.