come, let’s run wild
amongst the barren trees
and grainy wind
...
the mind lingers
on these sordid images:
fingers, legs, lips
intertwined,
...
a lot more than
heavy drops
quenched soil
distant rumble
...
It’s still too early
The sun hasn’t set
On the marks of our love
...
It was in choked,
hushed whispers
that they told our story,
assuming (very bravely)
...