Free Verse # 382 (the clock is broken)

Distant and apart
we whispered
in the dark,
her breath in my ribs
a billowing sea,
mine in hers
a swelling moon,
and together


In the heart of the poem
I am a house
full of yearning,
my windows
are burning candles
all waiting for you.


Our poems are birds
that flock in twos,
always flying
between me and you,
singing always
our voice combined,
wing to wing
over sea and sky,
and into horizons
of eternal light.


Poetry is the medium
and you are the bowl
holding this sky


Even you, undying stars, shall one day sleep,
The fog alone over our graves shall silently creep.


I tasted poetry
upon her breasts
that lulled me
with their heave
to a rest
deep and abiding
as I curled
my heart’s fire
in their nest.


The fire dwindles,
ache subsides,
our bodies as one
sleep all night.


Head on the pillow,
my breath
between your lips
a candle burning
in your lungs,
its light seeping
in your blood.


Turning and turning
the clock is broken,
it suffered one gaze
from your eyes.

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