the love that was
that is elsewhere
that is made of hearts and roses and smiles and rains and scents
it touches not the places we walk these days
desolate, alone, in caves. in bondage we remain.
but the lightning that struck
it brings life as it burns the air
this path this forest for a moment brighter than the sun
in that moment we linger like a lover’s fingers on new skin, tracing and mapping
thunders, silences. shattered trees, burning leaves.
we sleep not ’til her arrival. come to us and let down your hair.
we seek not to keep desire. let us taste it and move on. move on.