My breath
settles with a rustle on the
tender
land of your thigh. Words are
whispered;
the season is unwilling to
pass on
the lies of a leaning sun. Pages
of
prayers in blue light and kisses
flicker
in the coolness of the morning.
Hands
spreading like feeder roots,
drinking
in your milk soft skin.
You have
separated me from myself,
untethered
from the miles and maps.
In this
moment with you, finally
a
destination
.
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