October

Every night

that you are gone

I lie in my bed

and I imagine your touch

and your warmth

I think how nothing opens me up more

than your caress.

The wind whispers outside, in the dark

and I feel your kiss against my neck.

The breeze in my ear

is your breathing.

Warm, bare-skinned bodies

your chest against my arm

your thigh on mine

two bodies, intertwined

your hand moves softly, gently

across my skin

your kiss is on my cheek

you pull me in closer

outside, leaves brush against leaves

lips brush against lips

they dance and fall from trees

as your hand moves down my spine

the wind presses the windowpane

against its frame

you press your body to mine.

I was never so alone

until your branches

got tangled

in my own.

- March 29, 1986, A.D.