European rooftop

 

 

I kiss her shoulder and it aches with lost flight,

it aches in the catacombs of her limbs,

it aches with the faint shadow of love,

which is reading the curvature of the sky’s back.

 

My ear bends toward her lips,

and rests in the darkness of her mouth,

As our flesh dances like the wind,

through the empty doorways of our eyes.

 

We rode on the back of kindness as its angular head swayed in the breeze,

feeding the tree roots of our flesh with poems,

Beneath stolen cloth wings that secluded the world,

and rubbed the lights balmy cages with our eroticism and strength.