Friday, March 25, 2011

filled in...

A shadow on the wall kept my eye
a focus on shade and sunlight; how
bright coronas edged your lips, and words
in pleasing tones of pleasant things:
our strength, our weakness for pleasure.

Within shadow, a mirror born gleam
as if the Sun also wished to touch you
my hands felt suddenly silent, as pen strokes
in mind's eye brought feelings to fill in
a penumbra when you were the Moon,
soft scents when you were a rose in my morning;

a welcomed rush of wind upon my needful skin
when you are not here, not in my arms
not in shade nor shadow---yet always
close, in my treasured thoughts.

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