January 9, 2012

  • 35

    Second to second,

    memory to memory,

    my roots search for the earth,

    the lushness once enjoyed

    entwined in your flesh.

    How desperately now do these tips

    yearn to grasp the soil,

    pulsating

    and brimming with essence.

    Essential.

    I think of the warmth of sleep

    and the comedies of life,

    the comfort in curves

    and the allure of mystery.

    The senses dominate as I suffer

    for the desire that connects two bodies.

    You leave me thirsty,

    deprived of lips from which I drink

    your sweetness.

    If you come back for me,

    look up.

    I'm aired dry and straining ever higher

    in search of that moment of completion,

    when I'll first catch your arrival

    sprouting on the horizon.