The Morning After

20140513-180535.jpg
you tried dreaming
of
whatever in-between
of rough hearts

against light
of meteors
peaked

your hands –
calluses of
dissolved storms;

in rugged dawn
you kissed me
honestly

and

the way my
heart even
races

under pressing
fingertips
and felt yours
unyielding;

at purest
nightfall,

weak lips
don’t forget how
lightly
the sunrise

twice captive –
your eyes forget me.

photo credit: Darren Rowse

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