Thursday, November 3, 2011

Temporary

©Stacie Sandall


tall grass whips my calves
foreign cawing fills the night air
your fingers briefly glance off mine
as we trek the untrodden plains

the African moon sheds enough
to see the shine in your eyes
as you peer through the dark
in my direction

lips meet lips
before I can speak
and are gone again
before I can taste

reality tows me back
kicking and screaming
yet again
daylight is my curse


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