soft deep aches
deep down to my bones,
dusty rose-gold fingerprints
staining silk sheets,
waking up to filtered sunlight
kissing my cheek;
softly. gently. intimately.
this is how i know you’ve been here.
in the faint background the rumblings
of a tremor are erupting from
the ground, pulsating warning after warning:
“run. quick. run. far, away from here.”
and this is how i know you’ve left.
the tremors are stronger
with every shallow rise and fall of your chest;
it’s almost like i’m swept off my feet again.
but, dear love, won’t you stay awhile?
stay in this cocooned safe nest we’ve built,
warm sheets wrapped around us,
when all I know is the smoothness of your back
and the softness of your half-smile.
let the streaming daylight frame your face
and the gentle wind caress your hair.
(perhaps if we hold each other a little tighter,
we can pretend this isn’t goodbye.)
“The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return, by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken.”