My autumn air lingers
in your summer sky
like the tips of my fingers
and the zip of your fly.
I breathe you in -
deep and full -
the smell of gin -
the push, the pull.
As the room still spins,
you've no words to say.
This is how it begins
if this is how it can stay.
Not a sound
nor muscle moved,
I am found;
I am improved.
And for every other,
your eyes say to me
that they don't bother
even to see.
***************************************************
Long time no post. Here's a little somethin'.
"I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass." - Counting Crows A Long December
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