Lovers Between Garden Walls
All my longing, and the day it always stretches, all that unnerves me starts to recede.
Lifting the lock, slip past the rusted gate.
Lavender perfume pampers the air, a map of overgrown ivy on stone, traces of hyacinths and irises in the sunrays' trickling embers.
Lighting the sky, firefly ballerinas plié to a movement heard in the breeze.
Evening star, my Venus, my delight, your slow-motion form emerges from the sea of cypress and mossy aphros.
Mirroring gazes penetrate. You're every bit as shell-shocked as I am by the news of the world.
Symmetry of feeling in asymmetrical times.
Summer airs can be deceptively cool. My supplication is for the warmth of our embrace—gnarled arms of white oak entwined with the leafy quivers of our lips, starved of light, evident in constricted veins.
If only such moments would elongate. Tomorrow's terror fractures our peace; deer ticks burrow where thigh meets knee—
Roots planted firm, we face the straight-line winds of the oncoming summer's gale.
My heroine, shield and shoulder, would you be mine throughout the night?
