<p>Kiss her shoulders with peach lipstick on, remind the skin<br />
to soften. On the new day that we have here, the sun<br />
comes out more often. </p>
1.
Kiss her shoulders with peach lipstick on, remind the skin
to soften. On the new day that we have here, the sun
comes out more often. Where bodies whole and full of
ease begin to grow and flourish, they take your hand and
guide you, slow footsteps now, I am here beside you.
2.
Hands and,
Dainty droplets, fingers on
my thigh, tracing
little flower buds that
melt into my skin,
Soaked, like orange peel
in the sun
on the patio,
Where we are tangled
becoming one.
3.
I’ve been placing tealight candles
in corners where you used to lie.
She tells me that the scents
of frangipani, vanilla and zinnia,
Will rid me of your touch and
sometimes in the morning light
I feel them, soaking through skin
and kissing my skin, softly.
4.
She hated her freckles.
Until he kissed each slowly
and let them unfold before her
into a ground for a garden
looking through lingerie
and showing her
that there is always beauty.
5.
I yearn for the winter to be over and spring to sing
into my arms, raise them up to gently dance in the breeze
like pollen on the wind, under my nose that definitely
will make me itch and sneeze, but also kiss my shoulders and
stomach as I lie under sunrise and sunset, waiting for my skin
to turn pink and fill with life that is shaken from me in the cold.
I am consistently dreaming of how warmth colours us.