---
a quarantine of tender words...

Last night our poet chastised me with his...
while the stars passed over my skin in whispers...

Seconds from the end, fleshing out hurricanes,
The world gasps as she starts to tumble...

-
time, a hand too soon...

Sunlight punctures the still silent air,
chalky as it swirls around your dresser...

Pure sorrow looming as a brawny cloud,
Beneath skin crawling hints of resignation...

Some secrets should never be told,
There's one lesson already learned...

-
attached...

---
this ripe, fair skin...

I still find you in the dog-eared pages of poetry...
in the unpacked boxes that litter my closet...

"Happiness only real when shared."
He softly sketched between the lines...

,
folding over itself...