Saturday

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.

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