by Heather Allen
Breaking away from you
scudding away
like the tiny flecks of foam
upon the shore
I feel a pain
like no other felt before
Your dark softness
the dead of night
black water moving
in the depths of your eyes
You are the night
cold wind of the North
I shiver
you are the cold I feel
Like the icy chill
flashed through nerve and marrow
in that instant
when I know
the heat has come
And then, soothing,
it burns me kindly
rocks me in its arms
until I sleep
But as I sleep
I dream
of midnight beaches
inky waters
foaming white
Yet still
my skin is aching,
aching with the memory of water
craving for cold
to wash away the sweat
And the heavy scent still hangs.
Still I sleep
warm and drowsy
half smiling softly…
But I’m dreaming again:
I’m swaying on the water
to, fro,
to, fro,
the breakers crashing
I can hear my breathing
and the unshed tears
are fighting their way out
For you, for us,
for our long lives lonely
Still falling
to swell the tide
of unspent passion.