Evening can come so quickly

a dress shedding, slipping to floor

liquid dancer, polish against ordinary

the grace and urgency of fabric

ardor, quickening to burgundy

this place we find, mingled in each other

the way you breathe, become familiar

shutting out horrors that would otherwise lurk

on fringe of everyday, torments gathering armies

you shake me out, like a favorite wet coat

left to warm itself on old iron heater

where in that simple pleasure, pressing against chipped paint

the old coat, luxuriates in welcomed inferno

making up for the snag of life, when everything falls away

as when you were a child, you see color again

the hue of you, depends

on how much I redden your cheeks

already aglow in fading dusk

already rosy with rising blush

as I whisper in indolent hush

what I’ll do when light ellipses completely dark

the old coat, faded, worn thin, made anew

with a little borrowed warmth and string of lonesome hours

repair entwined in fallen weave

complete in ways no stitch describes

how lovely your neck, how soft your thighs

this world of sorrow, so quick to devour shine

when just enough and not too much, we find

saves the lost, saves the lost, saves the lost

15 Replies to “Lost on you”

  1. So perfect, the hues, the warmth, that coat on the radiator. I can’t get the chill out of my bones lately but this warmed me right up. 💜

  2. Hope you’ve been following the IB Author Profile Series I have been doing on IB WP Bob, I think you’ll find it really interesting and it’s been a lot of work but really interesting to do – I so admire how much people seem to achieve and the creativity of these folk we’re lucky enough to work with (that includes you).

  3. I’m no poet but I love the way that you slip the words ordinary and burgundy into that initial flow. They are like rafts on a silvery cascade of cadence.

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