sun-kissed monarch landing on freckled nose.
the gentle whisper of willow’s wind.

what it would mean to resign down the ladder,
and find my valuables untouched, which may be sadder.

yet i hope, under all layers of dust,
to find what i’ve forsaken for i thought i must.

our soft, lazy bodies finding the other,
skin and hands’ taut, magnetic pull.

amid my lips: a whisper of decree,
caught between the was and want to be.

the words i have yearned to push afloat.
those that occupy the basement of my throat.

i could lay here forever under glowing rays:
a faint pulse between blush-colored lips.

to slowly bend my knees to the crooked floorboard
and allow the chill to crawl up spinal cord.

body keeled to earth: my hope all swell and ripe.
too afraid of eye to eye—outlaw archetype.

eyes closed, carefully brushing her cheek,
breathless want passed across meadow green.

to repent this is to regret the purest i have met,
say you do not keep score—do not track a debt.

water’s final ripple bringing stillness to the stage,
could one remain—left behind in young age?

her stifled laugh, a melodic song.
perhaps both endure all along.