From music and candlelight, soft skin and mental snapshots,
To fruit ninja and cherry kisses, steeped tea and binbin.
From white goose down duvets and warm me and warm you,
To pomegranate stains and bed crumbs, meltykiss explodingeyes.
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Casting shadows on the bare wall, bare skin, hand puppets
Laughing you, laughing me.
That beautiful beauty mark beneath your right eye,
The goosebumps down my thighs.
But let’s not forget the french fries.
The glow of our Christmas tree, the glow of your skin at half past three.
Hours upon hours, dreams upon dreams,
Bottle of water after bottle of water
Hershey’s after Hershey’s
Her. She. Her, and me.
The birds don’t predict, or decide on a departure date,
Just as I never predicted, or decided this would be.
The birds feel it, in the air, in their feathers
Some energy, ushering them
Maybe in dreams, maybe in the wind,
Maybe they awaken one day and they just know,
Now. It is the time to depart,
To a warmer place. A winter cabin.
Nothing could be more right,
So here I abide for another night,
Watching the wick of yet another candle ignite.
