Been and Gone

Poetry

I met my love on a telephone line His voice like good, strong coffee with a spoonful of sugar

He held my hand in his warm tan one Big knuckles and fat veins knit through my long fingers

My love finally kissed me underneath a sliver of moon The smell of his skin opened me up like Primrose

He trembled like mosquito wings as I poured myself languidly moving down the length of him like tree sap, smell of cinnamon

I took my love home to my chaos and echoes He hung all my damp linens outside to dry

With his face in my neck I called him My Love and he gathered me closer his breath deep and quiet

My love for him filled me The empty spaces outside me fell silent while inside I whispered

His smile is soft as a cat’s belly I wound his hair ‘round my fingers and wrote our denouement

My love is sleepy now and it’s high time to rest I brush his cheek with pale lips and splay a curl on his pillow

The echoes are gone yet the whispers remain They travel over my skin drying my tears

The sun spills morning over dew on the leaves making diamonds I might trade for passage to tomorrow

~ Mine, June 25, 2021