We have not long to love.

Light does not stay.

The tender things are those

we fold away.

Coarse fabrics are the ones

for common wear.

In silence I have watched you

comb your hair.

Intimate the silence,

dim and warm.

I could but did not, reach

to touch your arm.

I could, but did not, break

that which is still.

(Almost the faintest whisper

would be shill).

So moments pass as though

they wish to stay.

We have not long to love.

A night. A day…

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Categories: Awesome Stuff

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