Nov. 27th, 2016

rozk: (crumpet2)
So much. Browned slightly black the crunch of toast
Spread thick with butter kumquat marmalade
Strong coffee. The sharp smell as it is made.
Potatoes parsnips crisp under a roast.

Squirrels at play. Magpie hops over grass.
A heron elegantly shading grey
At dusk. The sudden shrilling of a jay.
Rooks clustered solemn clergy saying mass.

Your lips on mine. Your hand between my thighs.
Your gentle breathing velvet touch all night.
Pretending you were wrong when you were right.
Decades of laughter crinkle round your eyes.
For love the lives around me tasty food.
No prayers of thanks but simple gratitude.
rozk: (crumpet2)
We do not choose our time. It flows around
Fingers run through like sand. We make a wave
That ebbs in seconds. And we try to save
Friends selves sink gently down without a sound
To rot in silt and leave our mark in stone
Negative space is all our love can leave
Perhaps enough. I wish I could believe
We live together friends but die alone
In moments beds a boot heel in the street
Choking our lungs. Perhaps a stroke of hand
Tracing our lips. We do not understand
When fading stops. Last thing. And yet so sweet
Sugar on tongue electric rain on grass.
Small moments bright and then the moments pass.
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