The wonder of reconciliation.
We spoke, words
Hard-lining the air between us
Eyes lit up like coals,
Bright, burning, obsidian.
Naught could cool them.
Over same words we climbed,
Seeking purchase in a pause,
Footing on a comma:
Avoid the periods;
They are hard to get over.
Somewhere we met, again
And oh, again we reached,
Clasping wrists…each pulling
(we learned not to tug long
ago; tendons pop) the other in.
Back into the eddy
Where understanding swims
Soothing us into caresses,
A hand on throat (mine, yours)
Fingers wound in hair (yours, mine).
Lips still release words,
But these are for the soul
Rather than the gut and
The eyes, they are
No less bright and now smolder.







6 worked it out »