I cannot take a lover
If I cannot find him
I might have
Your hands aren’t what
I thought they were
Mysteriously
Somehow lighter
Than before
Your lips so lush
But not as ripe
In sober light
For tasting as
They were
When your
Tongue was
Warm
A week
Ago
In the
Dark
Trees recall
Our memory
Like your spine
My favorite tree
“I’m not a tree,”
You said
I disagree
Arms around
Stretching out
In one another
Streams of sunlight
Cold yet
Sublime
Concentered
Dreams
Unspoken
Gestures
Want
Me
You
Wearing her gold
Would you
Wear my stone?
Interpretation of strands
Random hairs
Dancing on our clothes
In the wind
Is this one yours
Or mine?
Perhaps its ours
Or just the dogs
Standing between graves
Positioned
Like the beginning
Or the end
Of something
I’m sure it’s
Both
And still
He wants to know
Where is
The gin
© GÄ
Poétique 