• Our muted language
    Still lingers,
    Hanging on threads so thin:
    Like acrobats on trapeze.
    Making silent
    with our Eyes,
    Lips touching,
    And before you depart,
    warm me with one last kiss
    But kiss me
    ever so slightly,
    So that I may not
    awaken from the
    fragmented dreams of you.

    And when I have risen,
    With only the memories of
    You on my bed-side
    to keep me company
    Through my
    coffeeless mornings,
    Maybe then
    it wouldn't hurt
    as much as it did
    The last time.