Encircled timelines slide sloppily
across kisses from bearded chins
to smooth, soft lips and pools of icy blue
set deep into pale skin, a silent urging
for my impatience to quell before I
set off to the moon and back to declare
my love.
Puffy white coats and frost bitten grass
crunch under onlookers restless feet
shifting, uncomfortable, but can not look
away. Held hands move me forward
a vessel to carry me onward, towards the
mystery alone, I must make this journey
to know that this is real, she is real,
I turn back, looking through fogged glass
she walks away and I know she will
not be here when I return.
rowe 