a rose is a rose is a...tangerine?

found a blue button
on the street today
reminded me of your
peacoat preserved
in memory like
pickled ginger we use
to cleanse our palates

by candlelight you
keep company until
the night drains
itself into dawn and
on this day jasmine
tea to wake us

publish your dreams
in scribbles with your
fingertips on my nape
make a palimpsest of
me like Sappho's
papyrus scrolls

found the imprint
of your head on my
empty pillow
this morning
i sighed and
placed my ear
where yours had been

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

falling in love, always with "likes". a floating stone. for one second at a time we can be who we are. enjoy the same music, skin against skin, what other things beds are for. take away my words, leave me with truth after truth. we cannot be left to fend for ourselves in a world in which we both exist. but we, birdlike, blow away...return...and are fended for. and, yes, time is a circle of our own invention, but lucky for us it uplifts as it returns. words fade and we are left like prayerflags in the breeze facing ourselves/each other.