Lés Butchers

We basked in the glow

that the seasons cast.

And when the shade

finally came.

The darkness

congealing between

our entwined palms

found the freedom it

clamored for.

It kept prying

till we came apart,

and then slipped by.

As I sit here on this

cold January night:

I promise to find

the darkness that

congealed between

our entwined palms,

and to keep it pressed

where it belongs.

When the shade

does come again,

it will find us

clasping tighter.

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *