I woke to the fog that lingers still
hanging breathlessly ‘tween earth and sky
a blanket ‘round every leaf and twig
nestling in white-grey as I wish I could into you.
I remember those days and nights.
They haunt me, seep into my skin like this cool, damp air,
clouding my thoughts, moistening my eyes
and I beg for some kind, warm embrace.
“Look nowhere else, but inside of you
for all your heart’s desire”?
I find a flame growing, a raging heat
still and silent as the tangerine leaves.
I remember you; I remember us.
I can feel you still, embracing me
I can feel your blue-white flickering flame
Aching to burn hotter with me.
And still the coolness of now slips round my calves;
still the chilled reality of now sings its resonance.
There is no you in this mulled existence;
there is only this languid persistence.
When, in the night or day, I slip into your mind
Do you yearn, or turn away?
Do you yet slip silently into desire, coach its movements
into regretful, agonized explicatives?
Are we tied, now, by nothing but this creative imagining?
Are we yet tied by nothing but this type of love?
I miss the ripples of your tender skin,
the agonized sensitivity to my energies.
Lift this cloud; help me blow it away
with heat or rain, with tears or love;
or, mind, let me accept this uncomfortable space,
sip it like chilled water on a winter’s day.
-Prologue-
…And then the sun shines through the mist
alighting mist and leaves, alike;
and then, the world is a mystery;
our fantasy begins again.
Oceans of Mine 