Beloveds

[Guest guest]

And they had thought themselves

Poets and mystics,

For they had buried themselves

In each other's good graces

And loved themselves into

Another shape, another skin,

Painstakingly etched in the wonder of a starry night

When grass was green

And wild birds flew

Sapphire skies

In the age of crickets, their love songs

They were already wrong

When her touch, his touch

Burned

Into the deepest part of their earth

Where they made love,

Oh, how they made love

As the tides turned,

Rolled out to sea.

 

 

 

 

Ana

 

 

 

 

Ana