of strangers
I’ve forgotten –
breath against my skin
the velvet crush
of whiskey as my name
implied
the way
the path would give
and nights you’d call again
across the miles
a gentle
whispering –
offered one more
every time
gather me to home
where I began
to clear the slate
of those who loved
me long
voices without memory
of time
. . .
Evocative language- beautiful.
thank you so very much, my dear one ❤
When entering this world of separation we all begin as strangers … even those we call family, are the first strangers on our journey…
…….which is why the first we kiss isn’t nearly as important as the last………..
… sealing our connection in Love…
Another fine one. Something deep is touched and shown bare.
Always, Stephen………..always ❤
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.